Write an essay

In daily study, work or life, everyone will inevitably touch or use composition. Composition is a comprehensive and creative speech activity. Still at a loss for composition? The following are 9 short articles I have compiled for you, hoping to help you.

Write a composition 1 It's snowing!

It is still light snow season, and the first snow this winter will come slowly, flying all over the sky and spreading like flowers and catkins. The French paulownia downstairs, whose leaves have not fallen off, is covered with snow, like white clouds, and it is very spectacular. The earth in the distance seems to be covered with a piece of silver, vast and beautiful. Between heaven and earth, white, clean and solemn, it seems to be in a crystal clear fairy tale world. The ethereal, ethereal and distant artistic conception is like a moist, hazy and beautiful ink painting scroll.

I stood on the balcony with a cup of hot tea and a roll of favorite Tang poems in my hand. I looked up at the pear-like sky and bowed my head to a quiet place. Outside the cloud nine, I have a feeling of loneliness and leisure, which I have been longing for for for thousands of years. Poetry warms people's hearts, and it is full of poetry in snowy days. I whispered: "A tree falls into the water and a thousand cliffs wither, but I can see the real me. Sitting on the wall of Wei Lantern, it snows in the middle of the night. I'm in a picture book with four walls. Where can I find the pleasure of reading? Count the plum blossoms. " This is the poem "Winter" by Weng Sen's famous Four Seasons Reading Music at the end of Song Dynasty and the beginning of Yuan Dynasty. This group of poems, with paintings in poems, poems in paintings, or both poems and paintings, is full of scenery and beauty. With infinite scholarly temperament and vivid artistic forms, they have built spiritual homes for many literati in Kan Kan's long history and life journey. The beautiful literary image sums up the reading interest of China's classical society. In winter, the days are short and the nights are long, the snow hits the doors and windows, and a pot of tea is lit in one furnace. Reading is naturally unique.

At this point, I have no intention of reading. Snowflakes are flying, dancing like countless elves, leading me through time and space, showing me the snow in Liuzhou in the Tang Dynasty: "There are no birds in hundreds of mountains, and there are no footprints in thousands of paths. A boat, a bamboo cloak, an old man fishing in the cold river-snow. " Show a solitary fishing picture of Leng Jiang with an open artistic conception and cold air. The ethereal earth, all silent things, falling snowflakes, an old man sitting in a boat and wearing a hat, fishing alone on the Han River, are all vividly portrayed. The desolate breath and unyielding loneliness contain profound connotations. Fishing in the snow-covered river. The fisherman is aloof and aloof, regardless of the ice and snow, not afraid of the cold, and absorbed in it, which seems inviolable. Fishermen not only catch fish, but also the predecessors of Cold River Snow commented: "There are five words and four sentences in the Tang Dynasty, except for Liu Zihou's Fishing for Snow." "Farewell, the snow scene is as it is now." "Thousands, thousands, solitary, alone, two to two, also wonderful. Fish lurks in the cold river, and you can't catch it. This is not for the fish. If you can catch fish, you can catch it alone! " The poet expressed his childlike innocence in fighting the harsh political climate, and his inner world was warm and full of yearning. Lonely, lofty and stubborn, hot and cold, disappointed and full of hope. ...

If the heavy snow in Liuzhou is full of tragedy, then another strange snow in the Tang Dynasty is full of comedy. According to Qian Yi's Annals of New South Wales in the early Northern Song Dynasty, there were two poets in the middle Tang Dynasty, Hu Tiaojiao and Zhang Dayou. One winter, they were drinking in Wangjiangge when they suddenly saw heavy snow outside. At first glance, Zhang Dayou was moved by this scene and improvised a poem about snow. "The river is general, the well is black, the yellow dog is white, and the white dog is swollen." After Zhang Dayou recited the last sentence "white dog swollen", Hu tiao was already convulsing with joy. He praised: "Zhang Xiong's poems about snow are unique, which can be regarded as guessing' snow'. I don't take the liberty of writing one, please advise. " The poem says: "You are falling all over the sky and flying on the ground. How many fertile fields have you occupied in vain and frozen to death in CoCo Lee? How unlucky you are!" Zhang Dayou repeatedly applauded: "Brother Hu's snow poems are good! I'll sing another song, please try. " As he spoke, he recited: "This flower has never been planted since ancient times, and the north wind has been blooming all night; There are no branches and leaves at close range. I wonder where the Taoist priest is? " The two poets became more and more interested. Hu Tiao guessed poetry by poetry, and then he went on to say, "Everything in the world is jade, and flowers are scattered all over the sky. Catkin floats far away from the shore, and plum blossoms overwhelm the former village. Green bamboo condenses Yushu, and ten thousand branches become beautiful. The window contains white mountains, and the temple adds Fahua. " Zhang Dayou and Hu Tiao jiaozi looked at the snowflakes flying all over the sky. Although you come and I echo each other, they are all "poems about snow", but there is no word "snow" between the lines, and they are all "snow", which is regarded as a classic of "snow poetry" by later generations. Both of their poems are slang, easy to understand, humorous and humorous, implying hunger and ridicule. Thinking of the snowy day in this "doggerel", the impetuous and worried mood in the world of mortals has also become clear in such a quiet and beautiful snowy world.

The snow is still falling. Snow drifted from Tang to Song. Fall into the water margin, fall on Lin Chong, "Windson Snow Mountain Temple". The snow made the gods cry. When Lin Chongchu first arrived at the forage field, he "stepped on broken jade and walked with the north wind." It snows heavily. "After arriving at the forage field" is the winter weather, with dense clouds and a rising north wind, but it has already rolled up a heavy snow. ""I looked at the thatched cottage on my back. I looked around in a mess and was shaken by the north wind. It snowed heavily when I went out to sell wine. "When selling wine, I replied," Look at this snow, it is getting tighter and tighter at night. "How can I see good snow? There is a poem by a fairy in Linjiang as proof: "It's freezing and foggy, and auspicious things are falling in the air. In an instant, the four fields are inseparable, and Qianshan disappears instantly. The silver world, Yu Gankun, vaguely meets Kunlun in sight. If it goes down to the third night, it seems that it can fill the jade emperor's door. "The dense clouds, the whistling north wind, the flying snowflakes, the dilapidated forage field and the lonely ancient temple have formed a desolate, lonely and cold atmosphere, and the burning flames on the forage field are thrilling. This snow can't put out the anger in coach Lin's chest, which exaggerates the atmosphere, sets off Lin Chong's character and sets off Lin Chong's rebellious anger. Shi Naian wrote the word "tight" in the snow, which was evenly matched. ...

The snow is still drifting slowly. I opened the window and looked up at the endless sky. Snowflakes fell gently on my face and got into my neck. The weather is cool, refreshing and very comfortable. Glittering snowflakes fly over trees, through branches, and rush to the embrace of the earth. A woman in red with an umbrella playfully hugged a branch and shook it as if her heart had flown away. I saw her tread carefully on the thick snow, and I could see that there was a soft, persistent and warm feeling in my heart. Standing upstairs, staring at the mountains and rivers outside the city, a vast expanse of whiteness; Overlooking the banks of Keelung River, the air is filled with white mist. Looking at the woman in red in front of me, I seem to see the chic and elegant snow scene written by Cao Xueqin. "When I walked out of the door, I looked around and there were no two colors. In the distance is pine and bamboo, but I seem to be in a glass basin. So he walked down the hill. Just turned a circle along the foot of the mountain, and already smelled a Leng Xiang. Looking back, there are more than a dozen red berries in Miaoyu's Cui Temple, which are like rouge, reflecting the snow color, especially energetic and interesting. Baoyu stopped to enjoy himself carefully before leaving. " Xun Mei's artistic conception is really beautiful! Autumn branch Gu Mei, poetic style comes, lonely mountain, mo Xiang returns. I seem to see the plum blossom that Baoyu begged Miaoyu: this plum blossom is only two feet high, with a branch sticking out vertically and horizontally, about two or three feet long. The twigs inside are divided, such as a clam, a stiff earthworm, a fence, or a dense forest. It's really a flower spitting rouge and deceiving Whelan. I haven't seen Chou Shizhou's Beautiful Snow Map. In this Dream of Red Mansions, the falling snow with silver powder is breathtaking. This cold and snowy world, this blooming plum blossom, let me realize that heaven and earth give birth to the heart of everything.

Snow is romantic and always makes winter holy and quiet; Snow is pure and always makes winter crystal clear; Snow is silent, which always condenses beautiful myths in winter. Snow falls in the long river of history, and on both sides of the river, it is already a willow, casting a sword as a plow and turning an enemy into jade; Snow falling in classical books makes you discerning and gain wisdom, and you are the "teacher of past lives"; Snowflakes fall on today's fields, nourishing the flowers in full bloom in spring and turning into colorful butterflies under the blue sky. ...

Snow decorated the crystal in winter and washed my heart. Light and charming snow keeps falling. ...

What is maternal love? I know she is a bright sunshine, which gives us warmth and care. I know that she is the rising sun, which gives us hope and light. I know that she is everything, which makes people warm when they are cold, care when they are lonely, hope when they are desperate, and light in the dark!

Yu, a contemporary essayist, wrote in an article: "The starting point of all travelers is always to say goodbye to their mothers ... Their destination is aging ... It is impossible for the elderly in their twilight years to cry out for their mothers without moving people, and they have to wander without calling out for their return."

Motherly love is the ultimate destination of wanderers and a clear spring that nourishes children's hearts. With the children sipping and sipping, it is endless. Therefore, the lingering maternal love is integrated into the children's laughter and tears.

Motherly love is like an idyll, far away and pure, elegant and light;

Motherly love is a landscape painting. Wash away the lead carving and leave it fresh and natural.

Motherly love is like a affectionate song, melodious and melodious, singing softly;

Motherly love is a warm wind, which blows away the snow and brings infinite spring.

Motherly love is a lifetime of laughter and a wandering yearning. Motherly love is the concern and anxiety of children before their sickbed. Motherly love is the ardent expectation of their children's growth.

Motherly love is like the rain and dew in spring, quietly moistening our hearts; Motherly love and the spring breeze of Xi soothe our hearts; Motherly love is like a boat, carrying us through all difficulties. If maternal love is the blue sky, we are free birds under the sky; If maternal love is a forest, we are happy and unrestrained deer in the forest; If maternal love is the sea, then we are free fish in the water. Everything we have comes from our mother, and maternal love is the most selfless and sincere love in the world.

There are always people who support us, and there is always a kind of love that makes us feel distressed. This person is the mother, and this kind of love is maternal love. Motherly love is that dandelion, which is scattered in every corner of the world. Motherly love can be seen everywhere, and it goes hand in hand. No matter who goes to the ends of the earth, who can get out of mom's little heart?

Once, the teacher asked us to write a composition-great maternal love. I thought to myself: what is maternal love and what is maternal love? Who is mother's love for? I ran home and turned on the computer. I began to look up maternal love and composition, but I couldn't find anything. There are essays about maternal love, but they are all about their own mothers.

Later, my mother said, "Zhang Ting, you haven't eaten yet. Come down for dinner. I didn't answer my mother. Mom shouted many times, and I was in a hurry and said, "No, I won't eat. Mom added, "How can you not eat? You will get hungry if you don't eat. Come down quickly. I still said no, mom took the rice bowl upstairs. Say, "Eat! Look what I made for you. Hearing this, I feel a little hungry. Turn around and look, ah! It turns out that my mother made me my favorite Lamian Noodles, which is still spicy. However, I didn't find the information, or I didn't eat it, so I said, "Put it there first, and I'll eat it later. Mom added: "It will get cold if you eat any more. Eat it now!" I said, "I won't eat until I find it. If you don't go down, I won't eat. Then my mother said, "Okay, I'm leaving."

Then, I found the composition that my mother sent me noodles today. I read the topic again with joy. Ah, that's maternal love. I thought to myself, "I don't need to check the composition information of maternal love." Motherly love is in our life, and everything my mother does for us is for us. " It suddenly occurred to me, why can't I write the composition my mother sent me today? So, I turned off the computer, took out my composition book and ballpoint pen, and began to write about great maternal love. The next day, the teacher read my composition and said, "Your composition is good. Come and read it to everyone. " At that time, I was so happy that I read it aloud to my classmates with confidence.

Motherly love is pure, it is the seed of the soul;

Maternal love is beautiful, it is the sweetest among thousands of cans of honey;

Maternal love is warm, it is the brightest of all the golden lights;

Motherly love leaves no stone unturned, and it has the power to inspire you at any time;

Ask what maternal love is in the world, only parents know.

Motherly love is dandelion, and the seeds of this dandelion are scattered in every corner of the world.

Mom, I love you forever. Your body holds up the whole blue sky of my life. Thank you, my mother! "

I love plum blossom, but it is too stubborn; I love chrysanthemum, but it is too pessimistic; I love lotus, but it is too quiet; So I like peach blossom best, and its beauty is just right.

My love for peach blossoms stems entirely from the unforgettable scenery. Although it was discovered by accident, it left a lingering brand in my mind.

It was early spring, and everything in Shan Ye had been sleeping for a whole winter, and finally it began to wake up, so the small park in my hometown began to glow. On the weekend, it became a wonderful thing to make an appointment with a few friends and put aside all worries on the grounds of exercising.

"Spring flowers can't keep almonds out of the wall." Oh, that's easy to say. A small garden just wants to keep spring? I'm afraid the whole land can't do it-watch the spring scenery all the way! By the clean cement road, the grass tree is not willing to hang its yellow face all the time. It has already changed its face and looked at this beautiful and moving world curiously with green eyes. Walking on this path, they originally only wanted to harvest a touch of green, but spring gave us a surprise-we found small petals floating in the clean stream like a peach blossom garden: the size of nails, how small and exquisite; Pink, how beautiful; How naughty and lovely it is to go with the flow!

"Come on, let's find the Peach Blossom Garden!" So we went upstream happily. At present, there is nothing like the description in the Peach Blossom Garden: the grass is fragrant and the flowers are bright-there is only a peach tree in front of her, and she stands alone but optimistically among the weeds in the stream. We are not disappointed because we are moved by her optimism. We associate her origin and agree that her existence is only accidental. A breeze blew. It's refreshing At the same time, we can see the naughty petals jump into the water like this, hover among the stones in the stream for a while, and then run away happily. Look at the branches that feed these lovely elves: she is not graceful like a willow tree, tall and straight like a banyan tree, or grotesque like a pine tree-she is just a branch of a peach tree. It is dark in color, free to stretch, ordinary but beautiful.

Such a peach tree, her flowers will soon wither, and there may not be a chance to bear fruit. But she has done her best for spring. We caressed her branches, prayed for her, blessed her and paid sincere respects.

An ordinary scenery, an extraordinary feeling and a beautiful memory, from then on I fell in love with peach blossom.

Autumn Rain is a tearful poem in The Last Romance.

Rain is actually an emotion. Light rain is falling, fresh and natural, and coolness is a kind of warmth and yearning; It is raining cats and dogs. Very free and easy, very sudden, very shocking. It was wanton, unforgettable, a cry. Cold rain turns into snow, which is silence, sublimation and sadness. That kind of experience is a kind of heart and a kind of sadness. Rain, like poetry, is memorable; Rain, like a song, ups and downs are exciting; Rain, falling for the heart, drifting, but indifferent!

-Rain at night

Rain, floating quietly, wet eyes and heart. Clear rain, not cold, but clear, with a lot of feelings and suffering, lonely as the wind, slowly flowing; Shallow smile is not an emotion, but a state of mind, with a lot of helplessness and a lot of sadness, falling silently like rain; The faint heart is not intoxicated, but vicissitudes, many noises and many disturbances, which turn into this wind, this rain and this world.

Sophora japonica carries rain all over the ground, and what remains in my heart is: season, pace and heart.

Rain is a kind of elegance. It is a kind of beauty that penetrates the years. Facing the troubles of life, a smile that is not confused and calm like rain is the most beautiful gesture; Facing the time flies, not being trapped by love, like rain and wind, is the most beautiful feeling. Facing the ups and downs of life, not being confused by the world, such as rain, is the most beautiful elegance. Love in life comes from this elegance.

If you can, leave me in the rain, in youth and in the best time!

The rain stopped and my mood was scattered all over the floor. Bend down to pick up a fallen leaf, and the clear vein is a pure state of mind, just a little wet; Close your eyes and listen to a touch of wind. Soft singing is the fragrance in the distance, but it is a little vague. Thinking deeply about a heart, that wordless silence is a heartbreaking feeling, just a little sad.

Wet is rain and heart; What is puzzling is the heart and the wind; Sadly, it's the years that have passed, but life is eternal, not the whole world!

Rain is a kind of heart, a kind of talk and a kind of feeling. Listen attentively, like the wind caressing your heart, with worries, refreshments and tears; Listen attentively, like a silently blooming flower, with flowers, memories and thoughts; Listening attentively, like a poem, gently distorts time, with silence, indifference and pain. Rain, only for those who care, only for those who care, only for those who care, only for those who are idealistic.

Rain is the beauty of nature, the cleansing of years, and the beauty and eternity of life!

Article 6 of writing says that maternal love is like water. Indeed, just like the source of the Yangtze River and the Yellow River. If it is looming, it will continue.

When I was a child, my mother had beautiful black hair. Every day when I come back from school, I always see my mother's faint smile and the wind blowing my hair.

In the morning, my mother coaxed me out of bed, called me affectionately, and then gently fed me with a rice spoon. In the afternoon, the sun is shining. Mother washed my hair on the windowsill. I covered my head with bubbles and played with my mother. In the evening, my mother sewed my schoolbag under the dusk light. I hope the schoolbag can carry more weight, so she sewed it in maternal love.

However, over time. Black hair turns white and short hair turns long. I don't understand mom more and more.

On that day, the afterglow of the sunset enveloped the earth, and lush trees slanted on the rugged path. I got home, but I didn't see my mother waiting for me after school. Pushing open the door, I saw a bunch of orchids on the table. It suddenly occurred to me that my mother secretly called the class teacher in the room that day. She must know that I have regressed in my studies. But why did she ... I don't understand, washed away her mind and knocked the vase over on the ground. Pure white vases, piece by piece, were sharply scattered on the floor. Before my mother came out of the kitchen to explain half a sentence, I slammed the door, leaving only my mother in the huge living room.

I opened the calendar in my hand. Oh, my God! Today is my birthday. I finally understand that the bouquet of orchids is the most sincere encouragement and best wishes of this city. Opening the door, I saw my mother burying herself in cleaning up the sundries. The silver luster flashed before my eyes, and a drop of orchid tears flowed from the fingertips to the bottom of my heart. ...

Young trees grow, old trees wither, new leaves sprout and old leaves wither. No matter how far you go, you can't get out of that heart, the source of love!

Writing prose 7 always hopes that spring can be defined.

I said, spring is considerate. It is the blessing of an old friend when Jiangnan was lonely, a good time to pick acacia red beans, and a blessing of reunion after parting among flowers last year. It knows that after enduring the sadness of autumn and the monotony of winter, the dry and lonely heart longs for the moisture of spring. So it hid in a gust of wind and came quietly.

But, you said, spring is not amorous feelings. Ren Xichun was often afraid that flowers would bloom early, but she still fell in love. After a night of rain and sudden wind, it is green, fat and thin. Sighing "the catkins are thin on the branches" is just "affectionate but heartless". Spring is always in a hurry, too hasty. I can't wait for the flowers to wither, even the memory of spring is gone.

I said, it is poetry that makes spring. Through the thick curtains and glass, if it is not "sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently", how can people understand the elegance of spring rain? How can we appreciate the profundity and confusion of spring in the Northern Dynasties without "a thousand miles of birds singing green and reflecting red" and "a few towers of misty rain"?

But you said that spring created poetry. The grass grows, the warblers fly, the willows brush the embankment, and the red apricots go out of the wall, all loves. The charm of spring itself is unparalleled. It will only provoke the literati to win the day and seek incense, and Chai Fei will be detained for a long time, so that there will be "clothes that will wet apricot flowers and rain, and the face is not cold."

I said that spring is a few freehand brushstrokes painted on rice paper. Curly yellow light hangs down, and a duck is green. The moist soil is covered with green buds, and the vast green grass is dotted with stars and flowers. There will also be a few clouds hanging in the blue sky, and the sunshine is soft like a faint golden color for the picture.

But you said that spring is a meticulous painting: in a quiet and empty mountain, there is a quiet and empty ancient temple. On the night of spring rain washing, the bright moon falls through the jagged pine branches, and the clear spring flows among the stones with the Sanskrit sound of the ancient temple. After the spring rain, the unique fragrance of the soil permeates the studio, which is spring.

I said that the beauty of spring is that its flowers are in full bloom, the country is beautiful, elegant, delicate and fragrant ..., and the color picture shows its vitality for the east wind.

But you said that the soul of spring lies in the reserved spring rain. The light rain that moistens like crisp is gentle, the clear light rain is soul-breaking, and the light rain in March of fireworks is affectionate. The best thing is that it rains at home in Huangmei season. At that time, "the date didn't arrive in the middle of the night, I knocked on a chess piece and fell to my death." It's really poetic.

Oh, it turns out that spring has different meanings in everyone's vocabulary. It turns out that spring has no definition.

Some people say that this is a tough spring.

This spring is really hard.

Earthquake, snowstorm, cold spring ....

Mother Earth was torn and bruised.

Spring is still abusing.

What else will happen?

I can't see through the future.

Just like I can't guess the bottom line of being a man.

Others say that spring is omitted in many places.

The season of hope should have been sown.

The earth is still frozen.

I want to be tortured by despair again and again.

Spring is frozen under a thick soil layer.

Branches germinate slowly.

Flowers don't bloom, willow is not green, and spring is not warm.

I know I'm in it.

No matter how hard you try, you can't break free.

I can bear all the pain you gave me.

Just like I put up with everything you do.

Lift your collar again.

The collar is not raised to keep out the cold.

Just want to keep warm.

Endure cold and pain

Watching you perform quietly

I just want to keep silent.

If spring can't bring hope and warmth

If there is no bonus and willow green in spring

Then omit it.

In fact, many times

Life also needs to be simplified.

You can walk in with a long hair.

It is not warm this spring.

Writing composition 9 Winter is a season full of passion and enthusiasm in my eyes.

"Ready, let's go!" As the serve whistle sounded. The fierce football match of our girls pk boys has begun! First of all, the boy sent a representative to serve in the midfield, and he found a nearby target to kick. He is a football player in our class, Bai Jie. No one can get in the way with the ball. A group of boys crowded up and girls chased him. And he kicked the ball calmly and wouldn't let it change hands. Moreover, his eyes are flexible, which can be said to be all eyes and all ears. Observe carefully whether there is anyone to meet and whether there are enemies. I kicked the ball to the woman when I was unprepared, and I was relaxed. I didn't expect to be robbed by boys again. Angry and anxious, I ran to the girls' goal. I was about to shoot. I'm so anxious that I hate that I can fly without wings. I'm so anxious that my heart will be in my throat. This tension can't be described in detail in words. It's late, but soon. The girl kicked the ball away at the critical moment. The boys were very angry, and only a few people went to prepare for the next game. The girls were laughing and jumping, and suddenly the ball was going to squeeze into our goal. The happy atmosphere suddenly disappeared, leaving only tension. We all panicked when the goal caught fire. Mao, "Aye ……" The boys cheered, and I was so angry that I sat on the snow-covered ground and kicked my legs. I was so angry. At this point, the teacher blew a long whistle and shouted "1: 0", which made me even more angry. Inspirational efforts must be reported.

Now the girls are serving in the midfield. I flew to the men's goal to meet my companion. Boys rush in, girls are too weak, too weak, and serve too close. The boy gained the upper hand again. I stamped my feet angrily and hated her for being so stupid. I rushed forward to fly into the goal and we cheered.

At this time, there are snowflakes in the sky. This didn't stop our enthusiasm for playing football. The teacher shouted slowly, "1 and 1 are even numbers." Our girls are happy to get back the score, but the men's team looks unhappy. The boy sent a Hercules to serve, but because of his great strength, he was out of bounds at once. "Oh, foul ..." Our women's team served and was finally caught by Bai Jie. The players of both sides chased each other, and in the blink of an eye, the place became a sea of people. I quit from the inside and shouted "Idiot …". Finally, the boys caught it and chased it to the goal of the women's team. I soon caught up with it. When I saw the boundary, I flew out and the ball was out of bounds.

Because of my mistake, the men's team served at this time. Many girls complain about me, and I hate myself for it. The men's team cheered instead. When the ball landed on Bai Jie's foot, the girls swarmed. Bai Jie threw away the girls and only saw autumn, loss and wind. I also catch up, surrounded by boys, in an emergency, I found my goal. There is a girl not far away, thinking that maybe she can pass it on. I struggled and kicked around. In the middle, Bai Jie fell down. It was really forced. I'm very happy about it. Bai Jie got up from the ground, angry and laughing. "How can I let girls play with my good man?" He shook off the snow in disappointment, but I was immersed in pride but didn't find the boy's feet. The girl struggled with them for a while, but the struggle in the goal still went in.

At this moment, I suddenly remembered the annoying class bell. I took an angry look at the boy and thought that I would spare you next time and I would definitely beat you. The boy walked proudly. Everyone is unwilling to leave the playground.

A fierce and wonderful football match is over. Some disappointed, some excited, some dull. Because of a ball game, this cold winter has become warm, this colorless winter has become colorful, and this boring winter has become strange and colorful. Perched in a warm and passionate football in winter.

Teacher's comment: physical education class wrote a unique section, which vividly described the passionate scene. There is an immersive feeling after reading it.