Prose

Time flies, and the years are long. The fragrance of years can't resist the passage of time, and time has sprinkled mottled traces all the way. Walking on the plank road of time, looking for fleeting memories, once dreams ran aground in the sun and the moon, which seemed a little boundless, such as a meteor crossing the night sky, falling quietly, but leaving people with infinite reverie. ...

Warm wind blows gently, summer comes as scheduled, and the blue sky is clearer and brighter. I can only see a few idle clouds fluttering in the wind, the distant mountains are lush and beautiful, the river is sparkling, everything is in my eyes, and willows and green trees are everywhere on both sides. When the breeze blows, a pool of lotus root starch is graceful and fragrant with the wind, and a bay of clear water is endless, which is really beautiful ...

The splendor of summer flowers seems to be stronger than that of spring-pink, white and green magnolia flowers bloom on the branches with a smile; The Ziwei flowers on the roadside are warm, colorful and beautiful; The roses in the corner are graceful and swaying like graceful girls, and the wild roses crawling all over the wall decorate the whole wall into a flower waterfall. ...

Summer is very quiet, with a touch of jasmine fragrance; Summer is bold and unrestrained, showing the enthusiasm to the fullest, just like the scorching sun and heavy rain ... The picture scroll in summer is so beautiful, colorful, unrestrained, free and easy, stained with ink, and intoxicated with time. ...

The ups and downs of life, simple and fleeting time, holding the warmth of time, cooking a pot of green wine, drinking indifferently with time, drinking the joy of fleeting time, leaving the fragrance of the heart in time, gorgeous as fireworks, passing moments, eternal moments, faint time, beautiful fleeting years, those shallow songs and low sighs. ...

Counting the fleeting time, the shelved memory is slightly distorted by the wind at this moment, and the shallow faith quietly born between the eyebrows is wrapped with an inexplicable feeling. A sigh swept over my heart, and my thoughts filled my heart wet the fragrance of the season. As the years passed, I finally fell into a desolate place between flowers. ...

The rain of writing/posting heart