Poetic life composition

Poetic Life Composition 1

Once, a reporter interviewed Yu Guangzhong: "You are a great poet. Can you tell us what a poetic life is?" Yu Guangzhong replied: "Life It is not enough to have truth and virtue in it, there should also be art and beauty. There was an American billionaire who liked his little daughter very much. One day he saw his little daughter walking over with a smile, and he was so happy. For a moment he was thinking about how to describe how cute his daughter was. He thought for a long time and said, ah, you are as beautiful as a million yuan bill! This shows that although a person is very rich, he may be a poor person in poetic life. A very poor person cannot even think of a poem to praise his daughter because he has no imagination. What is the use of having so much money? So beauty cannot be quantified. It is a quality, not a quantity. So Wilde said. , The problem with people nowadays is that they know the price of everything, but you can’t know the value of anything. ”

There is no lack of beauty and poetry in life, but the lack of eyes to discover beauty and poetry. However, just having a pair of bright eyes is not enough. Yu Guangzhong briefly mentioned the poor expressive ability of a billionaire when he praised his daughter's cuteness and beauty, and people suddenly realized how boring and bad life would be without the expressive power of beauty and poetry. Only with more beautiful and poetic expressive power can we Truly make life full of beauty and poetry. This enlightens us that a poetic life is to learn the art of life of discovering beauty, feeling beauty, expressing beauty and creating beauty. Poetic Life Composition 2

Zhang Jingtong is famous for liking poetry. How much do you like it? She felt like she was lacking something if she didn't memorize poetry for a day. She already memorized the textbook "210 Ancient Poems Must Be Memorized for Primary School Students" from East Normal Elementary School. After memorizing a lot, she began to try to write poems. No, she won the third grade runner-up in the poetry competition held by the school, and she felt a little proud.

Poetry opened a window for her, allowing her to see more beautiful scenery; poetry helped her make friends from all over the world, and she gained many precious friendships.

Zhang Jingtong’s reading is not limited to poetry. If you see her reading list, you will be shocked: fairy tales and literary classics are not surprising, history and drama are also reasonable, and there is even "Time" "A Brief History" is a science book that is difficult even for adults to understand! For her, she can eat without eating, but she cannot stop reading books. She is addicted to books as much as her life. Extensive reading gave her a pair of bright eyes to observe the world, giving her works an incredible maturity.

Although she loves books so much, don’t think she is a nerd. She also loves nature, dares to think and do, likes sports, and once won the women’s championship in the Jilin Province Yafeng Cup Youth Golf Competition. . So, does she have to impress you? Poetic Life Composition 3

As long as you feel that your life is beautiful, it is a poetic life.

——Inscription

I don’t care what other people think of a poetic life. I think standing on the balcony and looking at the moon is a poetic life. When it comes to this, you may dismiss it. In my opinion, it is an elegant enjoyment.

The sky, the sky at night is so peaceful, only the naughty little stars are twinkling. Darkness can calm people's mood and benefit them greatly.

The moon, sometimes it looks like a disk, sometimes it looks like a boat, and sometimes it looks like a sesame seed cake with a little bit missing. I like the moon, it can give people a sour, sweet, bitter and spicy taste. I like the moon, it can give people a flavor that brings endless memories to me. I like the moon, it can give people a feeling of being cared about by their loved ones.

The railing, when I stand on the balcony, the railing is my only companion and my only support. Standing next to the railing, my hands gently rest on the railing. The coldness gives me a sense of calmness. An unprecedented relief.

Me, I have a special love for the moon. Whenever I go to the balcony, look up at the sky, and see a bright moon, I will think in my heart: The moon is bright, and I want it too. Let your life shine.

When I see it again, I hope I can proudly radiate the light of success.

Poetic life can only be experienced by ourselves. No matter what the quality of life is, having "poetry" is a poetic life. Poetic Life Composition 4

Today my mother and I painted two paintings together. The first picture is not very unsightly because I did not use a ruler to draw a grid, and the trees in the picture are relatively simple. So we simply painted another one, this time much more seriously than the first time. Just painting a willow tree and a pine tree made my hands sore. So, we used an alternating strategy and took turns with our mother to finish painting a little boy, a kite, a piece of grass, a path and three balloons.

After painting, I’m ready to color. When I saw that there were no watercolor pens, I ran all the way to borrow coloring tools from the boy next door. My mother was not idle either. She added flowers, butterflies, and grass to my painting.

After getting the coloring tools back, I started coloring. Because there was too much paint in the marker, as soon as it was next to my painting, it printed all over the table. Oh, this is too twists and turns, I thought to myself.

For my painting, I had no choice but to get up and clean the table over and over again. This time, to prevent bleeding, I put three or four pieces of paper underneath the painting. Halfway through applying it, I was so nervous that my palms were sweating. Oh my god, my hands. My mother saw that I accidentally stuck paint on my hands again, so she hurriedly asked me to wash them off. But I don't care about that much anymore, I just want to finish it in one go.

Hard work pays off. After the joint efforts of my mother and I, a beautiful spring painting that satisfied us was finally presented before our eyes. The bright spring scenery in the painting is bathed in the pouring sunshine together with our smiling faces. Poetic Life Composition 5

People often complain that life is too mechanical and unpoetic. In fact, in life, every plant, every tree, every person and every thing is poetic. However, this poetry requires you to appreciate it carefully.

Take the dirt road in my hometown as an example. It also contains a kind of poetry. Look at the deep ruts and a few shallow footprints on it. It is impossible to find out who made them. However, aren’t those ruts the traces of time? This deep rut has been trampled by the wheels of countless generations. It has been preserved to this day, passing through the rain, snow, wind and frost of the years, and has come to our time. Could it be said that this is not a kind of poetry?

The rushing stream in the mountains also has a poetic quality. The clear stream rushes happily in the mountains, and when it hits the cliff, a waterfall appears, "like a thousand feet of white water rushing straight down" and "flying down three thousand feet, it is suspected that the Milky Way has fallen from the sky." Can this stream and this waterfall still be called "secular"? Can it be said that it has no poetic flavor?

Mountains, whether they are covered in green and standing in a valley, or are desolate, contain a wonderful poetic flavor. Of course Qingshan did not speak, but there were many poems written by the ancients. Green mountains and green waters, shrouded in rain and mist, what a wonderful artistic conception this is! Even the bare mountains are poetic during the period. Continuous loess mountains, large tracts of thick yellow and enchanting red, can't we make people feel poetic?

There is poetry everywhere in life, but few people can see it. So, let us get rid of the mechanical and dry "assembly line" life and live a poetic life together! Poetic Life Composition 6

Because of the dance competition, the teacher took some girls away, while the remaining few of us had physical education classes on the playground. PE classes are always chaotic, the teacher is often missing, and we girls just quietly disperse, a few groups cuddling up to look at the scenery and talk privately.

The weather was extremely cold, and the rustling wind was like an invisible sword, leaving unique and delicate marks. Jm's face was red from the cold, and her short hair was dancing in a mess. She shouted to go back, but I hated the feeling of restraint in the classroom and begged to stay. "Look, they are up there!" She suddenly shouted in surprise. I raised my head - there were two female classmates in the class standing on the platform, with their hair flying elegantly, and a beautiful scenery under the clear sky.

She suddenly pulled me and ran up the stairs, smiling like a child and saying, "I've never been up there before, have you?" I nodded: "But not much, it's a very small amount." Then , I said worriedly: "But, JM, it will be very cold up there." This is of course a purely realistic idea, without any romance: Indeed, the ancients said: It's not cold at high places. But without thinking, she said with a smile: "How could it be? The higher you are and the closer you are to the sun, the warmer it will be!" When she said this, she had already reached the platform, and the wind seemed to be really warm, blowing against her face with gentleness. . Her words made me feel so warm and poetic: Yes, the closer you are to the sun, the warmer it will be. Poetic Life Composition 7

What is poetry?

People who advocate efficiency and shuttle through the city between steel and cement suddenly look back and realize that poetry is so far away from us.

I would like to ask, who still listens to the clear and bright spring water?

Who would pay attention to lilac"gt; how the elegant and quiet petals of lilac tremble and slowly gather in the wind?

Who can take the time to be quiet? Waiting for the message of hope brought by the first light in the morning?

How much have we forgotten in the rushing stream of life? Why is there no space in our hearts to accommodate these seemingly ordinary and simple things? Such breathtaking beauty?

The daisies on the roadside are blooming quietly, waiting for people to appreciate them; the graceful green willows are swaying their green branches in the soft spring breeze, looking forward to the admiration of people passing by indifferently. A glance; the wind chime in front of the window dances with the wind, making a pleasant "ding" sound, hoping that someone can remember the sincere friendship it once represented; the thousands of leaves in the birch forest make a "squawk" like waves. "Wow" softly, as if sighing that no one is here... The pleasant chirping of cicadas, the ever-changing shadows, the crystal clear dewdrops on the green grass...

Why are all of these so important to us? Is your soul excluded? Life itself is a colorful poem. Just slow down your pace and open your heart. The seemingly distant poetic life is right around you!

In the quiet night, I heard the rustle of pen and paper, standing in front of the window in silence, with my mind filled with scattered words. I was touching something and writing about the years of my life.

In the early morning, the ray of sunshine passed through the grass. It was already winter, such a scenery. It's very fascinating, and it seems that what I heard and touched during the day is like being prepared for this night? It's very different and uneasy at the bottom of my heart. It's quiet and relaxing, because what I write when the pen and paper touch is just a small poem, a bland poem that lacks the beauty of words and the richness of emotion in the night.

I finished writing. I couldn't help but smile. I gently opened the door of my mind, as if I had the desire to fly high and far. However, how can I fly high and far without anyone's force? I am free and free to think as I please. . The black writing on the white paper is neither exciting nor wild. Because I touched the tasteless poetry and brought me the hint of life.

The night is still flowing quietly; The moon is still hanging high in the sky.

The pen and paper in the hut accompany me through such a soulful night, and accompany me towards my youth day and night. I wrote it with a pen full of emotion, and it was left on the thin paper. Beyond the boundaries of nature, and following the growth rings of life! Poetic Life Composition 9

If Let me describe my current life, it must be poetic and beautiful. People always say that a girl's feelings are like a poem, which is a kind of simple, simple and happy beauty.

Walking out of the room at six o'clock in the morning. , you can see the violet sky when you look up, and the silhouettes of trees on the eaves. Everything wakes up in this holy light.

The self-study at noon was so lively, the sun shone through the glass and sprinkled on everyone; a gust of wind blew through the hair, the blackboard was filled with chalk words, the students' smiles seemed to slow down, and time flowed quietly. On the way home in the evening, I was lucky enough to see the gentle pink sky, fresh and sweet, beautiful and sad. At night, I turned my head to look at the sky full of stars. The fatigue, joy, and regret of the day...are all taken away by this starlight.

One day, I watched a piece of "Pride and Prejudice", and I just wish I could be in this scene, with the beautiful sky, the plain courtyard, the yellowed books, walking on the ridge of the field, sitting on the grass, Or sit by the window and listen to the rain all afternoon...

I don’t know where I saw this sentence, "Everything in my peripheral vision is you." Not only are you in my peripheral vision, but I am also you. This is a romantic poetry. You can also live your life in a romantic poetry. You can be sad for the dead leaves, be happy for the harvest, love every day simply and fully, and live every day well.

In a poetic life, let the flowing clouds and colorful clouds fill the sky, let the rainbow fall on your head, let nature take its course, and be happy. There are nine out of ten things in life that are not what you want, and you often think about one or two and not think about ninety-nine times, so that everything will go as you wish! Poetic Life Composition 10

Following in the footsteps of the sages, I slowly walked into Mr. Wu Liu’s former residence. The more than ten acres of land on the southern edge of Mount Lu is Mr. Wuliu's homestead. In the courtyard, there are eight or nine slightly dilapidated thatched houses scattered in an orderly manner. In front of and behind the hut, there are willows and peaches and plums, and the crisp singing of birds can be heard from time to time. Although it is not as magnificent as the grand pavilions and pavilions of the Grand View Garden, the magnificent green bricks and green tiles of the Summer Palace are more concise, elegant, close to nature and full of poetry. Standing by the low fence in the courtyard and looking out, a small village surrounded by green fields comes into view. Wisps of smoke rise from the small village, and you can vaguely hear a few dogs barking in the deep alleys and the high-pitched singing of a rooster standing on the top of a mulberry tree. Walking through the green fields and walking on the bluestone-paved path of the small village, you can hear the sounds of hawking and playing. What a peaceful picture of village life this is. Walking into a house, the villagers live a leisurely and contented life, the courtyard is neat and clean, and the simple furniture in the house reveals the unique leisure and happiness of rural life.

"I don't know where Tao Ling is going. Is there plowable land in the Peach Blossom Spring?" Yes, glory, wealth, fame and wealth are not my pursuits. Returning to nature, where everything and I become one, is the poetic and artistic feeling I yearn for. Poetic Life Composition 11

The moon in the sky tonight is very big and round. My mother and I stood on the balcony and looked up at the stars. The bright moonlight illuminated the room brightly. I couldn’t help but think of Li Bai’s poem: Bed The bright moonlight in front of me is probably the clouds on the ground. I raise my head to look at the bright moon and lower my head to think about my hometown.

Hearing my happy recitation, my mother turned around. I asked my mother if I was not good at reciting? My mother told me that it wasn’t that my recitation was not good, but that it was great! Because when she listened to my recitation, she remembered the hometown where she was born and raised her, and her grandmother who still lives in her hometown.

My mother told me that the moon in my hometown is bigger and rounder than that in Shanghai. The ancients said that the moon is the brightness of my hometown, and this is true at all. Mom also said that the cakes made by grandma were as big and round as the moon. Mom ate them so much that they looked like white jade plates. It made my mouth water. My mother said that when she left her hometown and came to Shanghai to seek life, her grandmother prepared clothes for her under the lamp. At that time, it was the scene in Meng Jiao's poem: the thread in the hands of the loving mother, the clothes on the wanderer's body, and the seams were tight before leaving. Words rain from the heart of grass, and three spring rays are reported. When my mother said this, there were tears in her eyes. I know, mom misses mom’s mom.

The night was so quiet, and I was moved by the poems and emotions my mother told me. The evening breeze blew in through the window, and the moon gradually reached the top of my head. I nestled in my mother's arms, really wishing that time would stop forever. Poetic Life Composition 12

Poetic life refers to a romantic, carefree, poet-like life. It may be enjoying endless glory and wealth, having good food and clothing every day, and being very happy; it may also be ordinary, but interesting.

Lian is the president of a company, specializing in signing various orders, and she is quite fanatical about trials.

Every Sunday, she would put on a long black dress, carry an expensive leather bag, and go to the Supreme People's Court as if it was a holiday. She was so happy. This is the poetic life that Lian has.

Hong is a tailor. The clothes she cuts are well-known in the town, and the prices are not high. There is often a long queue outside her shop before it opens. People in the city often take the long way around. When you buy clothes from her, you want her share of benefits. Every evening, she would put down her work and embrace nature, listen to the sound of flowing water, and watch the birds returning home. This is the poetic life Hong has.

I have been to Lian’s house, and her house is like an “oasis in the desert.” This kind of decoration is eye-opening, she said, because the song "Meeting" by Li Bai on the wall makes her life a lot more poetic.

I have also been to Hong’s house. Her house is filled with fabrics for making clothes, and there are not many decent pieces of furniture at all. And she said that the pastoral scenery outside the window made her life more poetic.

Lian and Hong, although they have nothing to do with each other, they can't get along with each other. But they stand under the same sky and have very similar visions in pursuing life. And we are standing between them. Isn't our life poetic enough? Poetic Life Composition 13

There are four seasons in a year. They are spring, summer, autumn and winter respectively.

Sister Chun came to the world. The leaves on the tree look like a big banana fan. Behind the palm is a row of cherry blossoms that quietly reveal their buds. They were like sleeping babies, sleeping so soundly and sweetly, as if they had cast magic on the world.

Brother Xia came to the world. All kinds of flowers are blooming. There are fragrant roses, bees and butterflies dancing among them. The green lawn is like a thick carpet. The tall trees are getting thicker and thicker. The dark green branches and leaves stretch out like big hands. It shields passers-by from the scorching sun.

Miss Qiu is here. Look, the golden pear is small on the top and big on the bottom, like a golden gourd. The persimmons are bright red. He also wore a small straw hat on his head. It's like the lanterns on the festival are shining brightly.

Sister Dong woke up the heavy snow. He held the magic wand in his hand and danced, and the snow began to boil and fall one after another from the sky. The earth's house was covered with quilts. The pine and cypress trees are like forest guards, standing guard every day, not afraid of wind, rain or severe cold.

It turns out that Sister Chun, Brother Xia, Miss Qiu and Sister Dong all have magic. Together they raise the magic wand and let us live a poetic life every day.