Poems about windmills for children (what are the sentences describing windmills)

1. What are the sentences describing windmills?

Ancient windmills, the wind blades of the windmills are like outstretched wings, turning in the wind, forming a unique landscape with the green grass and wild flowers. The scenery adds a magical color to this fairy tale world! I clearly remember that on the day of my sixth birthday, my father, who had always been taciturn and unsmiling, actually put down his busy schedule and made an exception to make me a small and exquisite red windmill.

It can be said that that was the most memorable birthday in my more than 30 years of life, and also the most meaningful birthday I have ever spent in my memory. Years later, every time I think back to that day, I still feel inexplicably moved.

My father, who graduated from the Provincial Geology School, was sent back to his hometown for "reform through labor" as a "stinky old man" at the beginning of the "Cultural Revolution" movement. My father, who had endured the humiliation and heavy burden of being sent to the "separate register" by the rebels for many years, finally hoped for "liberation" and "integrated" into the leadership team of the production brigade.

The day my father was "liberated" happened to be my birthday. My father thought this was an excellent sign and was naturally very happy. So I found bamboo strips, batter, and leftover scrap paper from writing slogans and wall announcements for the brigade, and made a hexagonal red windmill just for me.

It was a sunny autumn day, and the sky was so clear that there was not a trace of cloud. There was no wind, not even a breeze.

After my father helped me make the windmill, it couldn’t turn. When my father saw that I looked very disappointed, he smiled and said to me: "Silly boy, to make the windmill rotate, you must learn to run.

The faster you run, the windmill will rotate. The faster I go." After hearing what my father said, I suddenly understood, so I held up the windmill and ran excitedly and happily on the wide field in front of my door.

Sure enough, due to my running, the windmill in my hand kept spinning. How fast I run, how fast the windmill turns.

Because of running, and because of the constantly rotating windmill, I experienced a joy that I had never experienced before - the joy of running and the joy of turning. I kept running and running.

The windmill in my hand was also spinning rapidly during my tireless running... When I was in high school, under the influence of my Chinese teacher, I fell in love with literature and dreamed of I can be admitted to the Chinese Department of Yunnan University and hope that I can become a real writer in the future. But fate played a huge joke on me. When I graduated from high school, I missed out by two points. I had no choice but to return to my hometown, deep in the mountains that were covered in clouds and fog.

After that, I took over the farm tools from my father and started my farming career from sunrise to sunset. During that time, I felt a kind of loss that I had never experienced before. My whole person seemed to have changed. I was silent and decadent all day long as if I had lost my soul.

Facing the one-third-of-an-acre piece of thin farmland allocated by the production team, I have completely lost confidence and hope in my future. I always have a negative attitude of living one day at a time and numbing my soul with heavy work.

I locked all the literary books, manuscript paper, pen and ink into wooden boxes. When my father saw that I had a life attitude of "an old buffalo sinks into the quagmire and treats death as death", he said to me: "Son, a person can give up everything, such as honor, status, money, etc., but he can't give up hope. .

No matter when, as long as there is hope, you will have a tomorrow and a future. If you give up hope, then you have nothing. ”

Father. Then he said meaningfully: "Do you still remember that I made you a windmill for your birthday one year when you were a child?..." After listening to my father's teachings, I was deeply inspired. From that day on, I devoted all my hopes and dreams to the unremitting "running" of life.

As I run, the windmill of hope is also turning.

Ten years later, I finally achieved success - not only have I published tens of thousands of literary works in nearly a thousand newspapers and periodicals at home and abroad, but I have also published a collection of my own works.

The road to hope is not smooth and may encounter ups and downs at any time, but I always hold high my own windmill and run forward bravely. The distant windmill creaks in the dusk of Shaiguping, evoking the dim memories of childhood.

From all directions, the grains of sorrow come, the windmills of decay, the creativity of sorting clouds and deflated grains. 2. Please help me find poems about Dutch windmills. I don’t want an article.

The windmill turned my ears to listen to what it said in the rotating world, but later its calm rotation was artificially elevated to the level of labor. This simple machine emerges from the bottom of the old life. Relying on the power of the wind, it loudly sings some wordless songs. When the wind blows, the windmill will turn. This has become a common sense. In the same way, the rotation of the windmill will also produce new winds. Ancient Windmills are turning among the people. The sounds of mills and grains, the sounds of folk songs and the sounds of wind merge into water flowing everywhere. The faces of children, flowers and sunflowers are so similar to windmills. Falling in love with windmills is falling in love with nature. A windmill is spinning. Who installed it on the dome? How joyful the rotation of the windmill is. The invisible force must be the power of the wind. What are those windmills on the seaside? What are they standing on the seawall watching for? Perhaps no one knows except the windmill. The thoughts of the sea. The windmill turns and turns. It took several years for me to move to Europe, the Netherlands, and Amsterdam.

3. Urgent need

The windmill is turning

The world is turning its ears to listen to what it is saying

But then its quiet turning

has become artificial. The earth rises to the height of labor

This simple machine

emerges from the bottom of the old life

Relying on the power of the wind

It sings some wordless songs loudly

The windmill will turn when the wind blows

This has become a common sense

The same windmill will turn

New wind will also be produced

The ancient windmill is turning among the people

The sound of mills and grain

The sound of folk songs and the sound of wind

Merge into water and flow around

Children's faces of flowers and sunflowers

How similar are these ordinary things to windmills

Falling in love with windmills is falling in love with nature

A windmill is spinning

Who installed it on the dome

The rotation of the windmill How joyful

The invisible force must be the power of the wind

Those windmills on the seaside

They stand on the sea wall

What to watch for maybe except windmills

No one knows the thoughts of the sea

Windmills, windmills turn and turn

Go to Europe and the Netherlands

Go Arrived in Amsterdam

It took several years to turn around like this. 4. Regarding a poem, give me the address. Or the following text

Encountered the gentle sunshine and filled the entire hillside with the windmill turning. Counting the loneliness, there is a lost child traveling in a golden dream. In the season when lemongrass is fragrant, who is it in the sunflower garden? A sudden glance in the sunflower garden makes the noble sunflower lower its head shyly, and thoughts are given wings to fly. But it can't fly to the rainbow in the sky. The deep shadows of the flying birds across the sky can't cover the lingering clouds. The flowing water ruthlessly takes away the colorful memories of fallen heroes. The face keeps peeling off in tears. The lonely child can't hide the feeling in his heart. The confusion may be just fate. Passing by in a hurry, parting is always too hasty. I wave my hand, and the clouds in the sky remain the same. Passers-by are always in a hurry. Inadvertently, I suddenly look back and realize. At this time, the song has already ended, and the lingering sound of the closing applause is ringing. , but I am alone on Qingqiu on the lonely stage. 5. Please ask for a poem about the motherland. It seems like there are some dilapidated windmills, snowy mountains or something.

Read Liu Ming’s poem "Windmill". The windmill is where I was born. The windmill on Nan'ao Island is huge on the mountain. The architecture started out very weird, but soon became a favorite. People came to visit everywhere, and wind power also provided energy help for the development of this frontline island. These behemoths came from Denmark. I often thought, what if they came from Spain? Will Don Quixote follow? What will happen? Will the devil be defeated? The Spanish knights and German doctors are such scraps. Can they find opponents in China? Or the signer is the windmill here, as slender as a virgin. This makes my mind unable to concentrate. Just like a platoon of soldiers, hearing a bunch of whistles one after another, running around the windmill in a scattered manner, it can't be more clumsy and wooden, it can't be as shabby as a waterwheel, it can't be as dark as a wandering ghost without humming a song. Lying low on the field? I know you can't. You are white, flexible, and affectionate. I finally remembered a piece of the Internet "Internet Addiction War" I watched here, and a weapon named "Nuclear Harmony" to strike.