Prose-easy

I caught many leaves in the book, and I climbed hard and picked them from a height. Never thought, bow your head, gorgeous beauty is all over the floor, let you choose.

The youngest daughter likes to play in the temple. The beautiful Guanyin statue in the hall, pigeons circling around the tower, small turtles swimming in the release pool and flowers blooming in front of the temple made her very happy. We often play there for a day.

During the Spring Festival, when the weather turned warmer, I took her with me. In the backpack are her favorite biscuits and fruits.

"Niu Niu, let the Bodhisattva eat some of your cookies?"

The daughter shook her head and looked a little reluctant. After all, she is a three-year-old child.

"At noon, the Bodhisattva is hungry!"

Hearing this, she happily took out a box of unopened biscuits, hobbled into the hall and put them on the altar of the Bodhisattva. He took out the banana again and said, "Dad, peel it for the Bodhisattva. Mom said that if you don't peel it, you will get sick. "

The teacher who knocked on the chin smiled, and her wrinkled face turned into a winter jasmine. "What a good boy! Your biscuit was eaten by Grandma Bodhisattva. What do you want to eat! " The teacher opened the bag beside him and took out a white candy covered with sesame seeds from the offering: "Have some sesame candy, which is given to you by Grandma Bodhisattva."

Daughter, look at me. I caught it.

On the roof of the main hall, under the eaves of the tower, there are groups of pigeons lying. There are also a few in the square, and the clouds go and the wind comes.

Eat it. My daughter feeds pigeons while eating sesame candy. "Pigeons should eat, too." She said. Young children's voices are very nice.

The sugar ran out quickly. She took out the longan in her pocket, held it up, and ran over to let me peel pigeons. "Mom said eating with skin would make you sick." My daughter is young and only remembers the words of these adults.

Pigeons coo for food, with graceful posture. The daughter who hobbled among pigeons was very happy. The harmonious scene suddenly moved me.

There are many people who come to the temple to confess, most of them are mumbling, kneeling there to seek wealth and peace. But who would have thought of stripping the offerings to the Bodhisattva so that the Bodhisattva would not get sick? I'm afraid no one will think of it. Will the Bodhisattva be tired?

Many people compare their parents to bodhisattvas. Every Spring Festival, children will come back to reunite with their parents. But most of them went back to eat and drink, leaving a table full of leftovers and leaving. How many people want to peel fruit respectfully for their parents? When you are free, listen to these old bodhisattvas talk about their confidences and strip away the loneliness in their parents' hearts?

In this prevailing society, I am afraid that few children think of it, and parents are also very tired.

What's more, people and animals who are not as "status" as themselves.

Bodhisattva's heart is not mysterious. I think, whether it is a bodhisattva or a bird, peeling the skin and supplying incense pith everywhere is a pure, equal and solemn bodhisattva heart.

Beauty of fallen leaves

In autumn, the rows of trees on both sides of the street spit out clusters of yellow leaves, such as golden trees, which makes the surrounding environment very beautiful. On the way to the kindergarten to pick up her daughter, she opened her hands and wanted leaves.

This tree is very tall. I tried to bend over to pick it up, but I found nothing for a long time.

"Dad, here!" Lower my sore neck, my daughter is giving me a fallen leaf, as beautiful as autumn mountain.

She crouched down again and continued to search among the fallen leaves. I squatted down to accompany her to carefully select the fallen leaves. I was surprised to find that the fallen leaves actually have unique beauty: some are eaten by insects like all kinds of animals, some are golden and red, some are covered with frost, and some are as rough as oil paintings. ...

My daughter happily holds a few leaves and sings the episode of the cartoon "Happy and Big Big Wolf" as she walks. Many sentences were badly sung by her. After all, she is still young.

I also took some fallen leaves and wanted to put them in the book.

I caught many leaves in the book, and I climbed hard and picked them from a height. Never thought, bow your head, gorgeous beauty is all over the floor, let you choose.

Breeze Prose Part II: Prose

Light summer is like smoke, and flowers bloom vigorously. No matter how thin and cool people are this season, they are also warm. According to the softness of one meter of sunshine, collect flowers to brew time, make it fresh and pleasant, and support the soul.

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It has always been believed that good times are fragrant. In the early morning of this shallow summer, smell the flowers, listen to the birds singing, read carefully with low eyebrows, and let your heart cross the Tang poetry and Song poetry, and then the aestheticism and poetry will drop into your heart to form a landscape poem.

Soak a pot of green tea, the tea is fragrant, and the tired heart in the world of mortals is clear. Carve the sunshine into a canoe and put it back into the sea of hearts, like calm lake water, calm and moist. In the refreshing silence, condense the past on the delicate petals, draw a shallow picture of Fang Fei, and laugh at the ordinary years.

In the silhouette of time, I always miss many blooming moments because of my busyness, and because of the noise, I yearn for a clear and pure land to put my poetry and soul. How I want to find a garden, a ray of fresh, in the green mountains and green waters, grass and trees are condensed, flowers are overflowing, my heart is stretched under the sky, and natural tranquility is surging in my heart.

Maybe it's because of personality. What I like best in summer is not colorful flowers, but the touch of green in the corner. When I saw it, I felt that my heart was thorough, fresh and moist. It is pure and natural, without any decoration. It stretches freely under the cool wind and white clouds, matches the flowers and whispers to the morning dew.

True beauty is never embellishment, just like in the best years, when I first met the person as clear as water, I only had two clear hearts and the same affection as dew. This kind of beauty, in life, is just a glance, a spring breeze of ten miles, and a hundred flowers bloom.

I often think that the first rhyme of summer must be green, which is transparent, spreading slowly between light and shadow, gentle and shallow, leading to the heart, and the shadow of flowers is faint. It is a hedge planted by the breeze, a touch of green generated from the bottom of my heart, used to keep a beautiful, clean and quiet corner. No matter how smoky the fireworks are, the share is clear and transparent. In the brow of time, it is gentle and gentle, and the breeze blows.

Although the flowers are beautiful, they will eventually attract people's attention. Sometimes, when you are lonely and introspective, you can stay in a window.

I am in a cool eyes, guarding the inner scenery, reading the gentle poems in the light summer. This season gives me a gentle, soft and pure feeling, which reminds me of the skirt of a girl floating in the wind, the blooming of gardenias and love. People who have love in their eyes are naturally happy in their hearts, and that kind of beautiful feeling is in their hearts. Look at the flowers, they are smiling; Look at the water. It's clear.

Perhaps each of us once had the expectation of love in our hearts, and we all pretended to be a person. As time goes by, many things are blurred. It's just that constant feeling has been stuck in our hearts. Whenever we think of it, it is as transparent and beautiful as this faint summer sunshine.

Distant time can make people love tea and have a calm heart. These are the gifts of years, so that we can be sad and happy, and not let the dust fill our eyebrows. A heavy landscape, a half breeze, separated by the wall of time, I am still the one who enjoys flowers under the plum tree.

I like the word "fragrant breath", which should be, from a wisp of wind in shallow summer, through the soul, faint, with faint feelings, quiet and beautiful, never heard of it. There should be the lightness of wild chrysanthemums, the elegance of orchids and the fragrance of wild roses, which can be seen everywhere in this season. In the light green, the heart is half open, like the petals touching the dew in the morning, and the fragrance is full of sleeves.

You know Hua was rich from the beginning. Your daughter must have something hidden in her heart. The ignorance of youth and the joy of meeting for the first time dance lightly in your heart, like acacia in a tree flower in shallow summer, softening time and decorating the poetry of the season.

My heart is fragrant with the flowers in May, and some dreams of longing for arrival can't resist the gentleness of the slight breeze. In green, it is decorated with colorful summer branches. Some deep thoughts, needless to say, are the emerald color in your eyes when you smile. When you remember them, you are like dew kissing flowers, watching and warming.

With the purest state of mind, I will protect the initial bud, and I will create poems for you and grow into a lush life. It is also a kind of happiness to be remembered by someone in your heart. Just like your sentence, a exhausted love can slowly return.

Years are deep, and some feelings need not be said for a long time. I think I have come to meet time, write down the profound meaning, use a brush with dew, covered with the coolness of time, to sketch the encounter and outline the beautiful pictures in life.

Walking lightly on strangers, there is a breeze sliding through my hair, gracefully singing the songs of the past years. Those happy or sad memories have already slipped from my fingertips. Perhaps there is no eternity between gains and losses, but my expectation for beauty remains undiminished.

Life is always rich and bleak in experience, which is the accumulation of one's heart. It is the artistic conception of flowing water, the free and easy of white clouds, and the most beautiful gesture of walking in the world.

Holding a shallow eyebrow eye in a shallow summer must also be close to nature, simple and fragrant, like the flowers in June, like the lingering breeze. Shallow, how nice! Just love someone shallowly, and then support each other, until the old and shallow life, there is no ups and downs, not too much complexity. Look at the mountains, the water is water, and the light years are as warm as ever.

In this life, I don't want infinite scenery, I just want to be simple and happy, plant a piece of sunshine at the end of my power, leave a flower fragrance on my winding path, pass through a sheltered depression, hold hands and enjoy the touch and joy of ordinary life, even if there will be wind and smoke in the years, it is the most beautiful world with you.

I think of Xue Xiaochan's saying that the so-called days when the silver bowl is full of snow are the days when flowers are planted in front of the door, vegetables are planted behind the house, pickles are pickled by themselves, there are rice, oil and salt, poetry, wine and tea, and three or five confidants sit by the candle and talk at night ... This kind of time is just like drinking green tea, which is plain and poetic. This is what I want.

Just like this early summer morning, it always gives people a comfort. All the silence gave the birds dancing, dancing and the breeze. Through the roses in the yard, it brings a faint scent of wild flowers. When you open your arms and embrace the sunshine, your heart will have poetic reproduction, simple life, romantic progress, and the happiness of a flower and a crescent moon. All complexity will eventually be melted by time, which is your favorite.

Paper 3

May in my hometown is warm, where not only the mountains and rivers are green, but also the fields are full of harvest.

May in my hometown is sweet. There are not only songs and laughter here, but also a strong homesickness floating around the old house.

When I came back again, I received a phone call from my sister. My old father was ill, anxious and worried, so I didn't have time to appreciate the beauty of my hometown, so I hurried home. To tell the truth, my father has always been strong and courageous. It seems that I am not ready to face his aging. When I hold his skinny hand and see his trembling figure, my eyes are dancing and my heart is breaking.

Mei, who has no mother, made me feel confused and uneasy for the first time. Mothers blessed by their children are smiling happily everywhere. The smell of carnations seems to remind me that my mother has left me for a hundred days. This Mother's Day left me with only one kind of remembrance, but the pain of remembrance still keeps burning my father's haggard heart, sadness, loneliness and pain. ...

Father is a mountain in every child's heart. No matter he is handsome, middle-aged, old and sickly, he is a representative of strength and greatness. When we use all our affections to feel the endless maternal love or send a bunch of warm carnations to our mother, we never give him a word of comfort, just like a simple blessing. For so many years, I really haven't looked at my old father carefully, as if he would never get old. It was not until one year that I took my father to take a bath that I found that my father in his 80 s was really old. He was out of breath after a few steps. Without his family, the bathhouse would not refuse such an old man to take a bath. Seeing that my father depends on his son like a child, my heart is sour, and my father is really old.

My father is a coal miner. At that time, the rumble of guns under the mine made my father deaf, and the coal dust flying under the mine made my father's lungs suffer from occupational diseases. It is 50 kilometers from home to work, and my father can only come back once a month. As far as I can remember, my father always rides that flying pigeon bike, and often comes quietly in my sleep and walks quietly in my sleep. These days when my father was at home were the happiest time for me. My father not only brought delicious food envied by many friends, but also took me riding a bike, visiting relatives and strolling around. Today, I drove past the coal mine where my father worked, only to know how cold and dark it was, and how my father rode 50 kilometers alone, rain or shine, just for one belief-to go home.

To be honest, I don't feel much fatherly love, not because my father doesn't love me. Six brothers and sisters, and my son should be my father's favorite. However, my mother's more discipline once made me ignore the existence of my father's love, and the carelessness of men once made me feel ashamed of my old father. Today, when I was a father and a husband, I realized that when I faced a son who was stronger and taller than me.