That season was full of withering, and in the past days it became a crack between cold and hot, but it left no trace. Perhaps because it was too thin, it was turned into the past in the old vein of the old branch carelessly, and there was no reply for a long time, which was awkwardly hidden in the cycle of time and no one picked it up.
The moon is quiet and bright. Lonely mark proudly shines on the loneliness and sleeplessness of the world. On the sparkling water, it is rippling gently, like a grain of poetic rhyme, jumping on the vast Yuan Ye, different naughty, different naive, different smart, different elegant, different poetic! The shadow sifted through the cracks in the tree, which was a pile of broken silver. I wonder whose heart is scattered all over the place. It is true that happy oil paintings need sad makeup, and happy prose poems need painful understatement, but why should we say that "a teenager does not know the taste of sadness, but insists on expressing his sadness for adding new words"? Don't miss the autumn moonlight shining on the trees!
The sunshine in autumn is warm and harmonious, and it is obvious that the passion, enthusiasm and sharpness in summer are being replaced by a gentle and tepid character. With the attenuation of the sun's penetrating power, aggression and ferocity, in the blue sky, the floating clouds are also frantic, and sometimes ghosts are between Qiuyang, but they can't stop us from holding the warmth of Qiuyang.
We need colorful curtain calls, but the season is unwilling. The yellow wild chrysanthemum bushes have just been staged. I can't remember which road leads to those creatures who are used to it safely, but the surprise I found can only be described as overjoyed. When the morning mist wafts away, it brings a hearty breath, and the wandering in the fields becomes so pleasant. Chrysanthemums are everywhere, like the stars left in the sky, dragging gently and spreading all over the earth. Bloom with the most full color and ignite the poet's passion. After a night of frost exposure, I smiled flatly and described the light mood in the forgotten corner with a free attitude, and there was an alternative reading season style!
It can't be said that all feelings flow with the autumn rain. Yes, there is not much autumn rain, but it is long-winded! In order to find a cold harbor, I'm really tired of floating a boat. Even so, loneliness and sadness are not the only footnotes of autumn. Isn't it? The smile of wild chrysanthemum warms the autumn and scatters like broken gold. In front of the weather-beaten soul, we can't have too much frustration. There are too many gloomy clouds in my heart. Even if I give you a clear Wan Li, how can I cross the thick frozen soil and offer a touch of green for spring? Can't have too many sighs. Autumn is also a beginning. Turning gold into yellow is a kind of decline and a kind of rebirth. How can you hear the new sonata just for the sake of decline?
The harvest is in hand, and the distance between grain and sickle is gradually shortening. Autumn, finally landed in the field! Facing the sincere thanks of farmers, Rice bowed her head modestly, speechless, delighted and ashamed to wait for the deep embrace of sickle. It will be late, and Xiaomi will go home with the busy farmers. The long queue seems to be getting married with Xiaomi. There were only straws standing like terracotta warriors and horses in the once prosperous fields. We look back on the busyness when Ying Zheng dominated the world. All the endings have been written. I don't care about the tragic result, only about what I once had.
The distant mountains are silent and slender into an arc. Reed flowers are full of mother's white hair, whispering in a low voice, the road under my feet is soft, and the mature taste overflows when I step on it ... I love spring but I am too young, I love summer but I am too arrogant, so I love autumn best. Autumn is a perfect fit, a mature gathering, a slowly gathering flame, a little lost parting, a grand sadness and joy. ......
Walking in autumn, I have the joy of appreciating my bosom friend. When others go through summer and start to enter winter, I quietly wait for autumn.