Contributed by Da Essay
Jiangnan Expedition
A small building on the desk, a touch of green, buds waiting to bloom, waiting for the news of spring.
Between dawn and dusk, the trickle of water nourishes the hope in my heart, hoping that it will bloom like a poem and a painting.
The petals are slightly closed, as if hiding thousands of words. My heart is the same, full of longing for life, looking forward to every dawn to bring new hope, and every night, it hides endless reverie.
Waiting is not only a date with flowers, but also a journey of the heart.
In the hustle and bustle of the world, find a corner of peace for the soul to rest. When the flowers bloom, it is the beauty of life, quietly blooming, refreshing, and gorgeous.
Years are long, I wish to be accompanied by flowers, waiting for every beauty, meeting the extraordinary in the ordinary, and let life be like poetry, flowing gently.
Wind chime dream
Sitting by the window lattice, listening carefully to the wind chime.
Its sound is crisp, like whispering in the quiet night, scattering the crystal moonlight
on the ground.
I close my eyes and concentrate, letting my thoughts fly, and the graceful and graceful wind is vaguely painted in my heart.
Listen to the wind, whispering in the corner of the eaves, blowing through the forest and brushing the leaves, carrying the affectionate call from afar, and ringing softly in my ears.
The wind chimes sway, like the messenger of the wind, every swing is a flow of emotions, like the whisper of lovers, the affection is lingering; like the distant message of relatives, warm as ever.
Watch the wind, dancing in the green, swaying, and composing the song of nature with the leaves.
The wind chimes hang on the green branches, like the elves in the forest, swaying gently with the wind, the music is lingering, interweaving with the sound of the wind, and painting a picture of nature.
In this scene, my heart is intoxicated, as if I am in a fairyland, forgetting the worries
of the world.
May the time be peaceful and long, listen to the wind and watch the leaves dance until eternity.
Like weaving
The setting sun shines obliquely, stretching the mother's figure long.
She sits by the window, stroking the colorful wool with both hands, her fingertips lightly jumping, like a dancing elf.
She gently raises her right hand, and the silver needle turns flexibly between her fingers, as if conducting a silent symphony.
Every time the needle tip touches the wool, it makes a subtle but pleasant sound, which is the most moving melody.
Her eyes are focused and affectionate, and there is light in her eyes.
The corners of her mouth are slightly raised, which is the endless pampering and love for me.
The air is filled with a faint scent of wool, which is the taste of home, the fragrance of maternal love, warm and reassuring.
I look at her, and my heart is deeply moved.
Maternal love is like weaving, delicate and tenacious, and every stitch and thread weaves her deep love and blessing for me.
This love will become my eternal support, accompanying me through every spring, summer, autumn and winter of my life.
The time of the old fishing boat is humming
The sea surface is gently swaying, like a loving mother caressing her child's cheek. An old fishing boat is quietly moored on the shore, like an elderly poet, silently telling poems from the past.
The sunset is like a gentle painter, swaying golden paint, putting a gorgeous evening dress on the old boat, making it instantly glow with the glory of the past.
The hull is mottled, and the years have carved a series of vicissitudes of life on it.
Those rust marks, like the notes of time, jump between the gaps in the wooden boards, playing a symphony about tenacity and years.
They not only witness the hard work and sweat of the fishermen, but also seem to whisper those sailing stories of riding the wind and waves and moving forward courageously.
The net ropes fall gently, like the beautiful hair of a girl, with the breath of the sea, gently brushing people's hearts.
The sea breeze blows gently, and the old boat sways slightly. It seems to be singing a ballad about courage, persistence and love, and every note is full of affection and kindness.
As time goes by, the old boat can no longer sail far away, but it still quietly waits on the shore, like a historical monument, remembering that glorious period.
Whenever people pass by, they can feel the weight and warmth of history from it, as if they can hear the old boat humming in their hearts: Years are like songs, life is like a boat, cherish the present, and remember the past.
(Contributed by "Da Essay")
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