Life is a poem

Life is Poetry Essay Part 1

Every day life is colorful like a poem, overflowing with different flavors.

Sometimes life is a poem of love. A nutritious breakfast in the morning, a cup of hot milk handed to me by my mom at night when I study, an umbrella from my dad on a rainy day......

Sometimes life is a poem of love.

Sometimes life is a poem of friendship. I remember that time, I was injured, my left leg was fractured, and I could not go to school for a long time. At first I stayed home sullenly, feeling lonely and uninterested. Within a few days, my classmates' greetings kept ringing, and a few warm-hearted classmates came to visit me at home, chatting with me and telling me about school. The fact that they are not in a position to do so is a great help to us in our endeavors.

Sometimes life is a poem of struggle. The examination for primary school is coming, and the daily study makes me exhausted. Looking at those boring articles, difficult math problems, sometimes I really want to give up. At this time, my teacher's encouragement and my family's expectation made me overcome my laziness. In the face of the first small hurdle in life, I chose to persevere and struggle.

Every day is a poem, nourishing and memorable.

Life is a Poem Essay Part 2

Life creates poems, and poems float in and out of life.

--Title

Sitting in a quiet classroom at the moment, letting the memory stop here, lifting my eyes to look at the teaching building on the other side, letting the memory begin to rewind.

Three years of Shaoguang is difficult to stay, the past seems to be a beautiful handwriting, printed in the heart, written into a poem that shakes the heart.

"The golden bottle of wine bucket ten thousand, jade plate precious shame worth ten thousand dollars.

I can't eat without stopping my cup and looking at my chopsticks, and I'm at a loss when I pull out my sword and look around."

When we first arrived, we were like a group of lost sheep, full of confusion about the future of everything. In the face of the sudden aggravation of the academic, panic at a loss. Seeing around the students have entered the learning state, holding anxious, carrying hope, also hastily embarked on the dive into the uncharted journey.

"Want to cross the Yellow River ice plug river, will climb the Taihang snow filled mountains.

Idle fishing on the blue river, suddenly returned to the boat dreaming of the edge of the sun."

I want to open the fog in front of me, but I don't even have the courage to reach out. The face of the face of a piece of assessment was full of hooks and crosses of the test paper, who do not know the inner pain and increased a few points. Looking at the classroom when the students get the test paper of great joy and sorrow, I feel my heart is falling, feathers on the wings one by one to fall off. I also want to excel, it is the ultimate dream of everyone here, but to realize it is not easy, must accumulate enough tears, sweat. "Drops of water can pierce a stone", only to achieve a quantitative breakthrough, in order to obtain the intellectual leap. I believe that I can do it.

"The road is difficult! Walking the road is difficult! Many divergent paths, where are they today?"

The implementation of the new enrollment policy, a lot of good friends from our side beyond, looking at their back, the inner astringent. The first thing you need to do is to get a good deal of money from the company. Or the so-called hate. I don't know. Why have not grown up we have to taste so much life's suffering, shed so many tears, is it my horsepower has not been driven enough?

"The long wind will break the waves sometimes, hanging straight from the cloud sail to help the sea."

Jump out from the memory, only the sound of the second hand ticking in the ear, time is always moving forward, not at all care about my frequent turn back, thought I would be different, in the end, but also with the crowd of shoulder and shoulder. We live in an ordinary world, if you want to create an extraordinary self, you need more courage and perseverance. I believe that as long as I am ready, even in the most distant future, when I gray hair, I will one day taste the sweetness of this cup of bitter tea. Difficulties, aggravation is nothing, that is not a matter.

Poetry writing life, life as poetry, a "difficult to walk" not only wrote the poet Li Bai's ambition, but also describes my short career in junior high school.

On the last page of my life, I will definitely lift my pen and write a poem that I am most satisfied with.

Life is a poem essay Part 3

Another sunny morning, the naughty little sun climbed up from the east again. The little wind whooshed and blew, and the little flowers and grasses outside the window danced to the rhythm of the spring breeze, and then a new day was about to begin.

Mundane mother's love is the most pure - there is a mother is really good

Mom called me up ten minutes ago, and I am still immersed in sleep. "What are you doing, not up yet!" A "lion's roar" instantly pulled me out of sleep, I sat up, mom suddenly came in, "What do you think of it day by day, smooth get up, what time you see, not in a hurry! You are still here to grind ......" However, I have long been accustomed to the way my mother called me to get up. Simply cleaned up, went to school. On the way to school, I saw the leaves on the maple tree by the roadside turning red. Wow, fall has come to me to sneak around.

If people have the heart not to forget - quickly write homework

In school, one class after another, the teacher's upper lip and lower lip constantly closed closed closed closed ...... I sat in the first row should be listening to the lessons to listen to the best, the most serious, but I listen to listen, think of what to eat at noon, big balls or sauce eggplant, hahaha. This day down, give me tired do not want. After school. After school, I carry a heavy "shell" walking on the way home, mouth horizontal ditty, bouncing home, every day like this, a school I'm very happy. Back home, mom has been waiting for me at home, the food is still hot, after eating I obediently began to write homework. The first thing I want to do is to get a good deal of money from the government, and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that.

Small town hometown full moon - Happy Mid-Autumn Festival

Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, the round moon like a big jade disk, hanging high in the sky. Our family sat around and divided a piece of the moon into several portions, one for each person. Everyone happily enjoyed the delicious mooncakes. Under the moon, the grass was sprinkled with clear light and scattered with dewdrops, and a few restless crickets were still chirping. The moon is so charming, so seductive, it is so round and flawless that it feels unreal. It's so beautiful! I looked up at the sky, only to see the dark blue night sky dotted with a few twinkling little stars, the beautiful moon wandering in the night space, she through the gaps between the clouds, spreading soft light, covering the earth with a layer of clear light. I silently recited: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival.

Every day is a micro-movie. To live today seriously, because you do not know the road ahead is hard or sweet, life is like a poem, modified over and over again, modified your character, your capriciousness. Live each day well and write the poem that belongs to you.

Life is a poem Essay 4

The years are like a song, life is like a poem. Life is linked by a wonderful fragment of a poem, each fragment is a poem, each poem is overflowing with different flavors.

Life is a poem, a happy poem. When I achieved excellent results, the teacher threw me a look of approval, classmates sent me envious eyes.

Life is a poem, a sad poem. When my grades slipped, my teachers looked at me with disappointment, and my classmates no longer looked at me with envy.

Life is a poem, a poem of encouragement. When I was determined to try to catch up with everyone's pace, but found that things are not as simple as I thought, the gap between me and my classmates pulled further and further away. I was overwhelmed and couldn't find my way, surrounded by darkness. Fortunately, my mom named the light for me, she gently patted my head, "It's okay to fail, the key is that you must learn from failure." When I heard this warm hearted words, my heart lit up the spark of hope again.

In fact, life is not monotonous, it is colorful, it is like a poem, there are high points, there are low points, there is a torrent, there is a trickle of streams, there is sweetness, there is bitterness ...

Life is a poem Essay Part 5

Poetry, with its beautiful phrases, has always been passed down, but I feel that my every day is a poem.

In the morning, the night fog has not been dispersed, in the night fog, I can not help but take a deep breath, a fresh smell rippled through my body, this fresh smell makes me not straighten my body, ready to meet the arrival of a new day.

Poetry in the morning is fresh, fragrant.

At noon after a busy morning, we can finally take a break. The midday sun is warm and soothing to the body, as if even the lunch eaten at noon has become delicious!

Midday poems are delicious, delicious.

In the evening, after finishing my homework, I walked down the street with the traffic. Looking up at the sky, a star was winking at the passers-by! But confused I looked at the pedestrians next to me, yes! In this busy world, and who can ever sit or stand for or stop to look up at the stars? Thinking of this, I could not help but slow down my pace. I can't help but slow down and enjoy the infinite and marvelous sky.

The night of the poem poem marvelous, special.

Life is Poetry Essay Part 6

In my childhood, life was a painting, and there was a beautiful garden with green willow and flowers, birds and flowers, full of childish fun and peace. I gathered joy in the painting, and I released my fantasies in the garden.

When I was a teenager, life was a mountain, and on the mountain there was a mysterious Garden of Eden, which was full of fantastic magic, where there was my passionate desire. I read the Journey to the West, in the mountains and landscapes of the vertical, soaring in the blue sky.

In college, life is a book, the book is an ocean of knowledge, the ocean contains the treasure of my thirst, where I plowed the ideals, where I grazed the hope.

In middle age, life is a river, a river carrying the flow of years, I am on this bank of the river, the dream is on the other side of the river; as a fiberglass man, I'm trekking hard for the dream.

Nowadays, life is a poem, a poem overflowing with spontaneity and persistence. There is no Wang Han drunkenly lying on the sands of boldness, nor Wang Wei sitting alone in a secluded bamboo grove of purity.

Life is a poem, condensed years of years. A deep wheel of the year oh, imprinted once the wind and rain; a line of jumping verse, engraved with the bumps and bruises of the past.

Life is a poem, reciting the memories of youth. There is no longer an impulse to be impassioned, because the passage of time has long been the passion thrown out of existence; there is no longer a feverish blindness, because the twists and turns of life has long made me more mature;

You will say: the trials and tribulations of life has long been washed me to the edges of the whole, my life is a cup of water, boring. Then, my friend, use this cup of water to water the flower of your life! You will find that your life is no longer monotonous, your heart is open to a blue sky, at this time, your life is a magnificent poem.

Poetry, is a reflection of life, because it shows the footprints of your former perseverance.

Poetry is the wheel of life, because it records the most precious moment of your life!

Life is a poem, it reveals the theme of life, interpretation of the music of life.

Life is a poem, accompanied by the melody of life, flowing with the notes of life ......

Life is a poem essay 7

The ancient poems that have been handed down to this day have a wide range of subjects and rich connotations, and they are called "masterpieces of masterpieces".

Wonderful in nature

Life is not a lack of beauty, but a lack of eyes to discover the beauty of the ancient poems let me light up, and then climbed to the top of the mountains, a glimpse of the mountains; sometimes view the interruption of the Tianmen Square, look at the blue water eastward; sometimes listen to the wind and rain at night, counting the falling flowers; sometimes leaning on the bridge to listen to the flowing water, the wine to talk about the mulberry outlet. The beauty of the mountains and rivers in the poem, whether it is a surprise "dark flowers and a village", or leisurely "the water is flat cloud feet low", whether it is despondent "Jade less red sadness I have appreciated all of them, whether it is the despondent "the red is lost" or the high "there is no wind and rain, but also no sunshine".

People from nature, eventually return to nature, back to basics, free swimming, how can life not wonderful?

Wonderful in the heroic

Look at the past and present, on the hero, a generation of the wind, the heroic. Li Bai's cloud sail embellished the water of the Canglang, Xin Qiji's drunken eyes away from the sword, Su Shi's Chinese hair flaunted the youthful spirit, Lu You's dreamland echoed with the sound of the iron rider clanking ...... long wind and waves, blowing horns and camp, bending the bow to shoot the sky wolves, the iron horse icy river, this kind of bravado who is comparable to. Every at this time, will feel a kind of heroic spirit, hearty, as in person in ancient times, and benevolent people *** discussion of the world, the heart is suddenly broad.

After tasting the heroes of the wind and clouds, I am magnificent, looking up to the sky and laughing, how can life not be wonderful?

Wonderful in the moving

A large part of the flavor of ancient poetry comes from true feelings. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. The yellow crane tower on the distant look is not return to the friendship, ten miles of lonely graves can not be buried is the love, the traveler's thousands of bottom of the sewing is not exhausted affection ...... ancient poems for us to explain the meaning of love and moving. Philosopher Yun: "I think, therefore I am." Part of thinking is moving, and I am moved by the poetry of . True feelings and tears and moved, because of this, I understand that love is a precious thing.

I have too many touched, I know what to cherish, day after day, I grasp the beads shimmering crystal-like love, how can life not wonderful?

Under the green lamp, read an ancient poem, chanting an ancient word, do not feel smiling ......

Life is a poem essay Part 8

Morning.

The golden sunlight pours into the tiny room through the white curtains on the wide windows. The green wall, which was directly illuminated by the light, shimmered a light green, while the side portions took on an old green color, almost olive green. The floor reflected a flowery white color like glass. Only the beds, which were covered with crushed bedding, flowed with a glazed color.

Out of the room, the air is slightly cold, a moment to find slippers, so bare feet, stepping forward quickly, leaving a series of "rustle" sound. Glimpsed the kitchen in the movement, followed by "cooing" sound, is the pot of water boiling. The water rushes out, on the windowpane, on the glass sliding door, coalesced into a grain of milky white droplets, so that my field of vision a moment of confusion ...... through the haze of the glass door, to see a familiar figure in the busy (to prepare breakfast for us), that is last night's work until late to sleep mom!

Midday.

The TV in the living room was not on. The noises, the talking, told me - Dad was nestled in his room, watching his favorite sports program. Echoing this is the rumbling of the hood in the kitchen, the clash of spatulas, the "zip" sound of oil particles moving up and down, and the "clatter" sound of the faucet. ...... The various noises were a symphony of sounds, and of course, the player was still the hard-working mom. Plate after plate of food was brought out on the table, exuding a tantalizing aroma of fish, meat and vegetables.

Afternoon.

Tired of writing homework, pulled open the window screen, there are no more birds in the trees outside, and every now and then a breeze blows, witnessing the branches swaying and the leaves swinging. I went out of the room and saw my brother sitting on the floor. He was so bored that he stuck his head between the posts of the staircase guardrail, and his two skinny legs, poking out from under the railing, naturally sagged and flopped. He stared blankly at the beige wall across the room, in rare silence. Mom had finally emerged from the kitchen and was intently working on her turtle. She poured out the slightly cloudy water in the tank, replaced it with clean water, sprinkled in some turtle food, and then watched with the corners of her mouth upturned as the turtle kept flopping around.

At night.

Finally got into bed, through the window, see the opposite like a star-like lights one after another extinguished, I finally turned off the bedside lamp, with the heart to do a beautiful dream, the day has had the trouble to throw away all.

Everything is so beautiful! Life, in fact, is a poem, a language simple, sincere emotion long poem. And the author of this long poem is you and me.

Life is a poem essay 9

A lot of mortals are just annoyed, red dust running around, bustling for fame and fortune; walking in the reinforced concrete forest, true and false complaints about life. The body is tired, feeling helpless, and the mind is pale. Why not seek their own "a few early warblers scrambling for warm trees, who is the new swallow pecking the spring mud" situation, to find the "favorite east of the lake line is not enough, the green poplar shade in the white sandy embankment" feeling? You can even put on a traveling bag, "when the top of the world, a glimpse of the mountains," so "the wind and wine, the joy of it!" I found the poem, the day is easy, your life is a poem.

If you are a traveler, put on your backpack and look for the wonderful feeling.

Now, we jumped out of the circle of subsistence, running on the road to prosperity, the word "tourism" into the ordinary people.

Landscapes are everywhere, where there is no lack of beauty. In their spare time, people have to get out of the village, traveling to other places, not to eat enough to hold on.

The landscape is not a model, the beauty of a thousand different. Called tourist attractions, more or less built, as if the actors make-up, constitute a combination of natural and humanistic beauty. People are curious, new and old, aesthetics, said: "familiar place without scenery, distance produces beauty." People go out, zero distance taste of life in other countries, since the so-called "taste", of course, novelty, novelty of the psychological jump, ordinary days will have flavor. Every day, we see special landscapes and bump into people with different faces, and we feel that the feeling changes from time to time, and the flavor is often renewed, and the sense of beauty hangs in our hearts, which meets the psychology of people who like the new and hate the old. It's like a modern poem, the sound is staccato, the rhyme is high and low, the rhythm is harmonious and wonderful, the level is wrong, catchy.

A part of the travelers can not only achieve the enjoyment of ear and eye pleasure, but also to achieve the humanities landscape with the help of open heart, soul to enlighten the effect.

Come to Guilin, looking at the blue sky and white clouds, viewing the bamboo shoots like peaks, clusters of bamboo forests, intoxicated by the mirror-like Li River scenery, eye blessing fairy-like Zhuang girls, feeling dreamy and cool heart.

Listen, "There are flowers at the top of the mountain, and the water at the bottom of the bridge is cool. The heart of the injustice, mountain song like fire out of the chest hall." Liu Sanjie, the beauty of the Li River, the combination of the Jade Shoots Mountain, the embodiment of the beauty of the Zhuang girl. Legends embellish the landscape, and Guilin's beauty is covered with holy light, possessing an eternal artistic charm. Li River beauty nourished Liu Sanjie, Liu Sanjie illusion of Guilin landscape.

Into the Liu Sanjie, bathed in beautiful legends, Guilin aura possessed, your rhinoceros flashes, cultural tourism than the ear trip farther.

Came to the Dongting Lake, stepped on the Junshan, mounted Yueyang Tower, "articulation of the distant mountains, swallowing the Yangtze River, HaoHaoTangTang, across the endless end of the sunshine and yin Yin, the weather thousands of" as far as the eye can see, the tourists refreshing, broad minded. Eyes retracted, near the wall engraving, "the world's worries first, after the world's happiness and joy" voice sounded beside me, Dongting Lake on the waves of smoke came to a boat, a fluttering clothes, lupine fan literati stood in the bow of the boat, your hands reach out to the past, hold the history, "do not take things for granted, do not take their own sadness! "Let the heart open up, and Fan Zhongyan docking, your soul suddenly become thick.

Tourism and cultural docking, ordinary days seeped into the beauty of flavor essence, you see the poem.

Tourism opportunities are few and far between. In order to keep the capital to see the community, many people are looking for a life-extension formula.

If you are a mountain climbing enthusiasts, climbing mountains, not lose a poetic life of the door.

Climbing the mountain is a high physical exercise, so that the limbs are strong, the heart receives tension to enhance. The mountains have water, trees, grass, flowers. Mountain high, water blue, tree green, grass green, flower color. Eye contact, dust and disturbance dissipated, pale body and mind to return to nature, the feeling is green, the heart of the grass luxuriant. Climbed to the mountainside, hot, let the mountain wind blowing, or hold a wisp of stream water pouring face, refreshingly cool; thirsty, drink a breath of spring, so that the body and mind intoxicated. Climb to the top of the mountain, sitting on the stone, the wind mixed with wild fragrance pouncing, originally out of breath you, your eyes steeply open, the spirit of refreshing, comfortable. Life triviality thrown to the clouds, the body light, as if the world outside the high people. Looking at the blue sky, you are the blue sky; bathing in the blue water, you are the blue water; eyes to see the green trees, you are the green trees; body touch the grass, you are the grass; smell the flowers, you are the flowers! All this is in the mountains, and one is immortal in the mountains! If you are more unrestrained, you will be happy with the wind, and you will be happy with the wind! "Infinite beauty is at the top of the mountain" comes out of your mouth, and when you raise a glass with a great man, you become a poet, and your life and your senses are filled with poetry. Older, physical decline, can not climb the mountain, if you are a man of letters, on the proximity of the excursion, is not a proper way.

Nowadays, small towns, are built from a high starting point: spacious plazas, well-equipped; leisure parks, flowers and grasses everywhere; riverside waterfront, willow; suburban villages, bridges and water; farm compounds, deep alleys and secluded sell apricot blossoms ...... came to the water's edge, a moment of quiet sitting, "willow river level, smell Lang river treading song sound," the waterfront, the river, the river, the river, the river. The first thing you need to do is to get a good deal of money to pay for the services you need. Wandering in the alley, a Fangzi style, holding an oil-paper umbrella exudes a clove flavor of the girl towards you, a gust of wind drifting past the body, you stayed back to look back, dreamy ...... sunset, you wandered in the small bridge and water home, "Yiyi lonely rushed the remnants of the sun, across the water, sparse forests a few homes. The boat is like a painting, the fisherman sings into the reed." Although you do not know how to write a poem, here, but see the poem.

Modern people, filled with busy for the livelihood and for the future run around. During the day with the noisy, hustle and bustle, emotionally entangled with the indifference between people, disconnection, wariness, spiritually filled with repression and helplessness, feeling full of fast-paced vanity, fickleness. Late at night, can't sleep, don't be annoyed, don't get anxious. Clothes out of bed, turn the pages of the book, taste Su Dongpo "mayfly in heaven and earth, a small drop in the ocean. I am sorry for the short time of my life, and envy the infinite river." The low tone of Liu Zongyuan's "beyond the sky and the moon, mixed with the Xiyi, lonely and no one I know." The floating; follow Tao Yuanming "picking chrysanthemums under the East Fence", savoring the "leisurely see the South Mountain" free; with Li Bai **** chanting "Peach Blossom Pond is a thousand feet deep", implying that "Less than Wang Lun sent me love" friendship absolute sound ...... river water is vast, all the music is quiet, wipe out the noisy hustle and bustle beside your ears, pure friendship spring moisturize your dry heart, transcends the red dust of the lead set off your heart's repressed helplessness, hidden floating so that you forget the vain and impetuous.

pilgrimage to a cup of tea, sip, tea, books, dense, body and mind surrounded by poetic aroma, the text gradually changed out of the picture to the image of floating, cloth simple from, came to the vast river dipped in the moon riverside, and the poets sitting in the cabin with the taste of the "East Boat West Boat no words, only to see the river Autumn Moon White" mood; and Mr. Willow to carry a hoe, "planting beans under the South Mountain". "planting beans under the South Mountain", hand in hand smile "clothes stained not enough to cherish, but to make the wish is not violated" drop off. Suddenly, the closed heart open, open arms to embrace the poetic feeling, taste poetic life.

If you are a fan of climbing lattice, simply pick up the pen, write some of their own think free, not for publication only for the self-production and marketing of the text, and the dust to maintain a distance, standing in the universe at a high level of life, scrutinize the multitude of people.

Write a miscellaneous article to criticize the current ills and vulgarity of the world. To write essays, they have to jump into the red law, follow the vulgar, involved in the ugly, trapped in the deep, the experience is true. This is a soul torment process. After this purgatory, you have the Sunwalker's eyes of fire, to see the problem of a pinpoint, prompting the life of the world sharp, vivid, miscellaneous essays will contain a very heavy weight. If you want to play the essayist to look through the glass to see the red dust, the mind is always awake, wake up and look at the drunkenness, tedious not?

Write a scene describing the prose. Pouncing into nature, carefully observe the beauty of the scenery, a feast for the eyes. Then the integration of the mind, turned into a green background, and then put into a beautiful text. Smooth statement in the brain walking, that is the flow of poetry, with green cleansing feeling. Eyes to see the beauty of the mind feel beautiful, pen to create beauty, life is not beautiful?

Write a novel. Novels must integrate life, processing materials, fictional plot. The reality is dirty, vulgar, helpless, feeling depressed, you can use the pen to create a refreshing, smooth, pure peach blossom, so that the spirit of the Garden of Eden grass fresh and beautiful, colorful Ying Ying. Red dust of restlessness, noise, entanglement, the body can not escape, we come to a spiritual pursuit, like Dante's Divine Comedy to create a paradise, a beautiful realm for the medieval people to pursue the light, the creation of the "Renaissance" era. The free mind creates a spiritual blue sky, so that the world can see the metaphysical rainbow.

If you are a music lover, tired of the muscles and bones, tired of the body and mind, the soul confused, sit next to the koto, hands moving, and Zhang Ruoxu companion, to the Spring River Moonlit Night, looking for white clothes, the heart of the Irena. Moonlight such as a light veil, like a dream, shrouded in turquoise river, moody, fluttering silhouette, Izumi Zhi, look at the eyes, the painstaking pursuit. The river, you are the first person to see the moon? The bright moon ah, you see the first who? Is not my Iren ...... the river is vast, rolling waves answered the earth and sky knocking ...... that is the spirit of the knocking, is the poetic knocking, with the poet Zhang Ruoxu together with the pursuit of poetry, the soul is forever young.

Or not, open the computer, point to Rongzhong Erjia magical Jiuzhaigou, by the rough, melodious, waning tenor to lead, you enter the magical paradise - Jiuzhaigou in late autumn, extraordinarily three-dimensional, elevation of more than four or five kilometers above the place of the snow-covered, silver; the hillside is made of maple, chestnut, heather, green bar, beech wood, Persimmon trees and other miscellaneous trees composed of the original forest, red maple leaves, green chestnut, yellow nanmu ...... various colors mixed, colorful; foot of the mountain is a green color fir and horsetail pine, lush, sheltered from the sun. Fir trees, pine forest at the foot of the strip of streams, streams from the snowy mountains rushing down, all the way with the grass, the forest kiss, blue water such as blue, rippling like a dream. The water is crystal clear, reflecting the surrounding trees, people, grass, the world is surrounded by green, truly a paradise! Next to the stream, the water pool is full of trees, the autumn wind blew, yellow leaves fluttering, as if the butterfly dancing ......

The song is melodious, feeling in the green mountains and water, blue sky and white clouds glide between, the mind to get intoxicated, happy to forget.

"A crane in the clear sky goes up, and it leads poetry to the blue sky." Poetic life is a piece of blue sky, so that the free mind unlimited flight; poetic life is a kind of leisurely leisurely mood, so that people look at the blossoms and clouds.

Life is a poem, the world is spring.

Life is a poem, the world is spring.

If life is written as a poem, it must be gorgeous. My heart is loaded with faraway places, where there are towering Himalayas, dazzling Icelandic aurora borealis, stormy Eiffel Tower, and yellow sandy Sahara Desert. Nature has decorated the world with a variety of colorful and exotic clothes, they also have a **** the same name - yearning. I yearn for the world's rich and colorful, marvel at nature's ingenious work, I never questioned how wonderful the world is full of hope.

If life is a poem, it must be ups and downs. If you talk about life, you will think of an adjective - mixed feelings, some people are sitting in a mansion, car, do not worry about the livelihood; and some people live in the wind, rags. Life does not have a cruel side, because it is not easy. We chase its origin, just a bunch of carbon and oxygen compounds, will eventually return to extinction. And the poetry of life's distinctiveness does not come from the blockage of the unknown? Lin Qingxuan once compared life to an ocean, and we are just poor people struggling to hold on to the driftwood in the ocean. Only, some people grasp the driftwood is very big, while some people are difficult to protect themselves.

If life is a poem, it must be bittersweet. Sixteen-year-old happiness is very simple, a badminton battle, a small progress, or a new dress, can be for the dull life color. At that time, we were just like "no trouble" and "unhappy" in general, hovering back and forth between the two, heartless laughter, crying painfully, we are as simple as a blank sheet of paper, believe in the promise of a lifetime. Life is like a cup of peach oolong tea, entrance bitter, aftertaste, but sweet aftertaste.

If life is a poem, it must wait for someone to finish the pen. The title of the poem is undecided, the content is broad, by people play. Everyone's life is a small poem, that is, it begins with sadness, but also will be good. "All stories end well, and if they don't, they haven't come to an end yet." Even if you can't write a poem right now, that's okay - who says poetry can't be art that collides unintentionally?

Everyone has a poem of their own.