Prose about flowers?

The wind in spring is very soft and light, and purplish petals are scattered all over the yard. The beauty of flowers can't be described in words. What are the essays about floral fragrance? The following is what I arranged for you. I hope you like it.

1: That year, flowers were everywhere.

That year, the flowers were enchanting and the mountains and rivers were quiet. That year, the smile was like a flower, and the time was bright. That year, the wind was surging, the water was surging, and the sky was all mixed. That year, butterflies danced, geese returned and peach blossoms set each other off. That year, you were beautiful. That year, we were stupid.

Wild chrysanthemums were in full bloom in the mountains that year, azaleas were as red as blood that year, roses that year were particularly enchanting, and butterflies that year were flying all over the sky. That year, we met

If walking hand in hand in this life is the integrity of life, then meeting you is the best encounter in my life. There is always someone who will come to you in the most beautiful years, stepping on the fragrance of the years, making you feel sad, making you unable to help yourself, and making your life complete, but this has nothing to do with romance.

The moonlight is as cool as water. The night is as thick as ink. Sparks are shining in the sky, your eyebrows are across the corner of my eyes and bloom in my mouth. Flowers fall in dreams and fall on someone's shoulders inadvertently. With a little stumbling, a spring water rippled. Hair like a dream, who is wearing plum blossom makeup, accidentally falling dust, snow falling sandalwood, clothes dyed with fragrance, gently plucking his heartstrings. Flowers fall, sleeves are waved, and whose thoughts are taken away. Looking back, I can't see your face, my heart is like frost, and the sunset sets at the ferry. When will these geese come back?

Blown by the wind, Zou's time flies like water, fiddling with the wheels of the years. The ferryman at the ferry has been reborn several times, with flowers blooming and falling, looking through the autumn, leaning against the railing, and the water is boundless in the depths of clouds and smoke. When will you come back with a leaf and a boat, hold my hand and hold me in your arms? Bodhi flowers bloom all over the palace wall, and the flowers are in pairs, flourishing, but sad, heartbroken and sad, just leaving. The west wind blows and the flowers stay, so where the old friend goes, only Yan Shuangfei can fly. The breeze passed, candlelight dragged, solo was not appreciated, and petals swayed with the wind.

The night is still early, the moonlight is cool, the stars fall in their eyes, pick up a ray of soft light, carry a ray of love, twist in the palm of your hand and stick it on your chest. The flowers under the bodhi tree are quiet at night, the candle shines in the last quarter of the moon, the pen is cold and the west wind is cool, and the water in the middle of the lake is unparalleled. Momo red dust, a cavity of worry only for you to stay; In the long night, the curtain of dreams is just to bring you in. The red dust is purple, the shadows are scattered through the window, the Taihang snow falls, the jade floor is red, the loess melts, the tea blooms, the moss is all over the wall, the pillow listens to the rain, and the mountains and rivers shadow.

Flowers fall in the dream, flowers bloom and flowers fall, and the shadows are narrow, only the shadows step on the autumn mourning, and the flowers have gone. My blurred eyes can't see your figure clearly, tossing and turning, and I can't sleep at night. The moonlight is cool. This long night is as still as water, and the fog is filled with your voice and smile. A ray of moonlight, but my mind is full of rivers and my heart is cold; Pale red, but time flies, the wind has passed without trace. Scattered sadness and mottled thoughts floated in the dream and soaked the whole period of youth.

The tide rises and falls, the moon lacks a garden, the sea changes, the spring goes back, the origin disappears, and the flowers bloom and fall. When I fell asleep last night, the flowers floated all over the floor, and the brow was covered with dust. When you come back from the flowers, Bai Mei is wearing makeup and her skirt is flying. I hung my eyes and smiled where the fireworks were shining. I stretched out my hands gently, but I haven't touched your breath yet. The figure of that man has long since disappeared, and only the residual lamp is swaying in the night.

Walking in the alley of reincarnation, the flowers are full of trees, the time is bright, but the heart is wandering. Without your umbrella, I can cover my inner loneliness. Without your smile, I can warm this lonely late autumn and those lost years. How can I put it? I carved your name on the bluestone, so that I won't lose your figure, an idea, a journey and a pale miss in the reincarnation. One mountain and one water, just to find the temperature left by the fingertips. The flowing eyebrows are my attachment to you.

Poems written with tears flow silently in a pale heart. It turns out that there really is a feeling that has nothing to do with romance, but it is unforgettable. There is really a kind of love that touched my heart and disturbed the years that should have been as calm as water, and I was obsessed with it all my life. It turns out that there really is a person who makes you unconsciously intoxicated and reluctant to let go and forget. As a guardian who has nothing to do with love, he gives you all the warmth and full love.

The flowering period is short, just like the most beautiful years, always fleeting. The lights on the other side are so dazzling. How are you there? At the ferry, I can't leave and I can't forget you. You are like a rain of fireworks, blooming in my silent years, gorgeous and beautiful, leaving me a love that I can't give up, tightly wrapped around the years, lighting up my gray and dull years. How can you have the heart to leave like this, and how can you rest assured?

Your gentleness made me lost in thought. Who will hold my hand and show me the way in a strange alley? In the sad season, who will hold me in my arms and comfort me? When I am wandering, who will light up the darkness for me ... plum makeup in white clothes, falling dust by mistake, falling sandalwood, dyeing my skirt fragrance. You are a dream given to me by God, but I am greedy for too much, and I lost you, as if I lost everything.

Tonight, I took you to bed again. You came back from the flowers, dressed in white and plum, and your skirt was flying. Where fireworks shine, you hang your eyes and smile. You held out your hands and hugged me tightly, and the flowers fluttered and danced, covering the path called reincarnation. Like my countless lonely night dreams, this time, I smelled the flowers.

That year, the flowers were overflowing.

Chapter two: Poetics of Spring Dyes Flowers.

The wind in spring is very soft and light, and purplish petals are scattered all over the yard. The beauty of flowers can't be described in words. There is always touch in life. Time flies, the past is like the wind, leaving poetry and painting in the flowing years, decorating the most beautiful scenery in life. Exchange feelings with spring, lean on the wind and listen, and a falling flower will be reborn, which can't stop the reunion of flowers in one season. The singing of the wind and the fluttering red flowers can only be understood by those years full of fragrance.

According to the breath of time, a little new green has been added to the cracks on the bluestone board, and the earth is full of vitality in an instant. Looking at a piece of spring scenery reminds me of a memory, who walked in whose life and left a shallow mark; Who stays in whose flower season enriches each other's love; Who has stopped in whose heart and carved a permanent mark. Perhaps, time has turned pale, and the years have calmed the throb, but those memories in life are always mottled and continued in that youthful time. ...

The annual rings of the season are reflected on the windowsill of the years, and the vicissitudes of life count the past storms. The memory of the sky is always tilted on that fragrant poem, with a long aftertaste and endless aftertaste. How I want to plant a new green of love for you in every season; How I want to write a book of love poems for you on a full moon night; Think more, every full moon, I will be gentle with you, intersect with time, and grow old with life.

Warm a cup of tea, sit quietly by the window, filled with emotion. There are always some memories in life. All the experiences in the world are to be cherished, even if there is prosperity in the world. I just want to be alone in the corner, relying on my soul. I don't know if it's too far away to miss the mountains and water, and I don't know if the distance from spring to autumn can take away the memories of the years. If I can, I want to choose an elegant place, live by a stream, surrounded by flowers, and watch the smoke rise.

Looking back, no matter how many storms we have experienced and how many bumps we have encountered, as long as we persist on the road, we will always see the most beautiful scenery in the end. Walking quietly in the kingdom of words, every warm word and every warm chapter has an unforgettable story, and everyone has a feeling in his heart, deep or shallow; There is someone in everyone's heart, far or near. Soft as water, intoxicating.

Spring rain falls in the memory of autumn, and the fleeting time has turned my thoughts into memories, my vows into memories, my afterlife into expectations, and my name into the deepest memories. Fate is really amazing. Fate can make two strangers meet instantly. Fate can make two people turn around and separate along the way. Perhaps this is the truest freehand brushwork in life.

Magnolia blossoms, the long-awaited colorful flowering period, dress up spring as a colorful beauty, flowers are dust-free, I would like to give my heart to this pure world, wandering in the flowers, flowing in the dark sleeves. Flowers bloom and fall, which can be explained by a circle. Can you change your yearning for flowers into your expectation for spring love?

Perhaps, the cycle of flowers is an end and a new beginning. Silent flowers bloom and silent flowers fall, which is the continuation and sublimation of life. Just like the ups and downs of life, although there are too many disappointments in life, there are also wonderful moments and lonely feelings, which enrich the mind and weaken the indifference in time. In that shallow retrospect, the flowers bloom brilliantly and calmly.

Wind makes incense, rain makes poetry, gently caresses the petals of years, writes the words in time into legends in life, and gently treasures them in every calm day. Every encounter in the world is a reunion after a long separation. Perhaps, there is always a wish waiting for us to complete, and there is always a person who needs our heart to hurt; Meeting is only a short moment, but it can take root in the bottom of my heart and warm each other's lives.

Gently pick up the tranquility of the years, lingering encounters, unexpected joy, hot and heavy feelings, always continue in life. When the midnight wind gently floats across the sky of the years, it still flows like water. Decorate the starry sky with a plain pen and draw a luminous light to illuminate you, as if a figure came from the fragrance, rose with the wind and appeared in the sea of flowers in the rain.

Wandering in the spring when peach blossoms are fragrant and pear blossoms are in full bloom, I am full of beautiful poetry and pure feelings to ignite my tired heart in time. A person's artistic conception, even if it is silent, will be so wonderful at this moment. A cup of fragrant tea and a book of poems can not light up the whole spring, but also moisten the flowering period of this season.

Listen to the wind under the moon, listen to Zen under the rain, find a clear state of mind, and put fragrant flowers in this spring season, gorgeous and full of tidbits. With the flowing color of life, lightly trace a touch of rose color, pillow the poetry of flowers, and leave the smile to spring.

Chapter three: faint floral fragrance, ink dyed for a while.

The passing time, the changing time, the constant is the faint fragrance of flowers blown by the four seasons monsoon, engraved in the depths of the years, is the most beautiful Mo Yun in the corner of the soul. Flowers bloom in the four seasons, and the flowers are overflowing in spring, summer, autumn and winter, and the fragrance remains the same. How many literati tramped for flowers, leaving thousands of poems in the Tang and Song Dynasties, just to make an immortal promise. In the faint fleeting time, there was a faint Mo Yun, praising the beauty, charm, character and charm of flowers.

"Ice and snow are the embryos of Rongyu, and tenderness is close to the window. When the dream comes back, the flowers bloom on the beauty's head. " Walking among the jasmine flowers, a faint fragrance of flowers floated in. Jasmine is the messenger, goddess and dream of spring. Jasmine, as transparent and white as snow, is like a jade-faced beauty, swaying gently in the warm spring breeze. Who fainted its fragrance in the poet's dream and shaped the image of the flower god? Not who. It's a dreamy fragrance of flowers.

"If I study his flower history that year, it will be listed as the best fragrance in the world." Jasmine flowers are fragrant all over China. One, two, three, four, jasmine petals are layered around the white stamens, like a baby's little fist, pink and tender, petite and lovely. Looking from a distance, the white and delicate jasmine flowers are evenly dotted in the endless green flowers, and the breeze blows, like a spirit of thousands of snow, falling in the slowly surging green ocean. Everywhere is white and green, and the world is full of fragrance. Not intoxicating, but intoxicating.

"Sunshine, incense. The fragrant silver bag is broken, and the jade plate falls. " Summer is coming, and the lotus flowers are fragrant. In the lotus pond in early summer, most of the lotus flowers are in bud, pink in white, like shy girls, waiting for the appearance of lovers; In the lotus pond after the rain in early summer, the lotus flowers are in full bloom. The faint fragrance of flowers wafts with the wind, and the faint coolness adds a quiet charm to the lotus pond. After the rain, dewdrops either gather at the bottom of the lotus leaf or scatter around it like sparkling diamonds.

The lotus pond is full of leaves from the field. The breeze blows, and the lotus leaves shake slowly, as if celebrating this grand rain in summer with a soft surface and a warm heart. Most of the lotus flowers in August have withered, and there is still a small lotus flower in the lotus pond. Looking at these fragrant lotus flowers, it seems that I have fallen into a fairyland. They came to the earth to take a bath like seven fairies. When they saw the lovers passing by, a red flower flew on their white faces. Their dance is fresh and shy, and their temperament is gentle and affectionate.

"A garden full of beautiful women and clusters of roses." In autumn, the garden is full of azaleas. The azaleas in the south bloom most beautifully in autumn. This is a kind of flower that people often grow at home. Small balcony, golden Qiu Guang, dry weather, dust faintly visible in the sun. In this little golden world, the cuckoo came out of the air. White, pink, crimson and yellow azaleas bloom warmly, but red azaleas are the most dazzling.