The poems of roses are all beautiful.

The poetic beauty of roses is as follows:

Coking plant soaks Joan Yu Fang. Petals hang down and fall naturally. Bloom in spring, wither in early summer, a cluster of dark green. Tick-tock, answer, answer, sound and music. Read in the dream, the new fragrance is old and ripe. Things go round and round, and if it comes to spring, it will be bound by bright beams.

A camphor tree flower is fragrant, and the mosquitoes among the flowers are shocking, the fragrance is silent, the trees are scattered and the shadows are obvious, and the guests are heard at low altitude. Ye Lvyi spring wakes up all year round, flowers and birds sing accordingly, the sunset is still unbearable, the shade is blue, flowers and trees are totems!

Xiaoman suburb has fresh scenery, and you can enjoy the new sky by walking in the morning. A pond with beautiful water and a few flowers and birds. I am glad that the bamboo in the forest garden is tender, and I am glad that the wheat ears are full. The old farmer raised his head happily and muttered a good year.

It was drizzling last night, but today the sun is shining brightly, and the clouds are light and the wind is light, which is dazzling. The flowers outside the window are bright, the charm is endless, and the beads are fresh. The powder makeup is still fresh and the ink color is still strong. New clothes with water and green leaves are better than ink painting.

In early summer, the roses in the forest garden are in full bloom, and the fragrance floats in the fields, attracting bees. Beads of rain suddenly fell full of flowers, but they were like tears hanging on my cheeks. A burst of flowers attracts butterflies and roses are full of flowers. Colorful and elegant, no less than peony people.

The rain at night deceives the tears in the morning, and my heart is full of love and help. Did you see love rat last night? Now you look pale and in tears? The assassin's flowers are more beautiful, and the rain moistens the branches. Sunny and dew are a little ashamed, just like a couple combing their temples.

The night rain is falling and the flowers are blooming, and the beauty is shining. Grass falls without pity for April, and those who cherish flowers cherish others. When the rain pours into the stream, you will be ashamed to teach the moon in your dreams. I hate the tears before spring, will I come again next year when the wind is warm?