Love prose
Love is a strong attachment, closeness and yearning between people, a selfless, single-minded and inexhaustible emotion, and a yearning for future life. The following are eight essays about love that I collected, hoping to help you!

Chapter 1: One stroke and one ink, the end of time, bloom knows that spring is warm, flowers fall and autumn is cool, and the four seasons change. Who's watching, lonely ink? Two people's hearts and faces are waiting in the sea and mulberry garden. The blooming leaves fall in love and fall at the end of the season.

Maybe it's a marriage in a previous life, maybe it's a fate in this life. When I met you, I buried the warm fleeting time without any regrets. A difficult book is gentle. Tears ask the sky, how many thoughts are crazy in the lonely night sky? How many people are crying?

A wisp of sadness, a wisp of cigarette, a glass of turbid wine, who is drunk when we meet? A curtain of dreams, who pays for the railing? Take care, who did Tianya send? With a deep voice, who are you obsessed with? Sigh lightly, make generations of tenderness, and a cup of green tea turns from strong to weak.

Where to send lovesickness? Autumn rain is cool, chrysanthemum is yellow, and melancholy is a cold window. All kinds of stories, but feelings hurt; When Xiao Shui goes, the moon is like frost. If you are forced to be lonely, forced to have an affair, it's okay to wait for nothing.

I still paint a glass dream. I just hope that the road to love is simple and warm. After several worries, I threw the fragments about you into scattered poems. Cut the red love, cut the green love, hold the warm city, meet hand in hand, cross the peach blossom romance, shoulder to shoulder for thousands of years, set off a pure heart.

Sigh, time is like water, and there is no trace at all. When I went to Qiu Lai in spring, my heart ached and I couldn't speak. Deep frown, sadness, no thought, that time, a piece of red shadow, a slender moon, waving a brush, full of worries, write flowers for you, write words for me.

The book of songs contained in the breeze, quietly ink and wash, collect rain to make clouds, infiltrate beauty, describe whispers, chant words like lotus, miss the beauty, and there is nowhere to send books. How can it be broken? And tears write cloud notes, straightforward, carefully chosen words, and fortunately there are several chapters in the poem.

Such a mood, for fear that fate is broken, is long gone, looking at the court at dusk. The dust that has been disturbing one after another, I can't see people returning to see autumn, and I can't bear to part with it, but my heart has stayed. Let the words in the shallow book, full of worldly feelings and ingenious notes, overflow the four seasons like songs.

Clean up the mood, stay in today's plain notes, every word, there is a strong feeling. If you cross the Tang poetry and Song poetry, you may never forget it. Put beautiful and pure rhymes and words with you * * *, put the end of the world at hand, engrave the spring and autumn period into a chapter, laugh and talk freely, and this love and wind and rain also depend on it.

Light ink is still fragrant, the whole city is only old, and it will last forever! Gently shake off the dust on your body and draw a shallow mark for you in the chaotic thoughts. In the distance, the aftertaste of incense floats near, and I can't smell the oath burning. When your wish turns to ashes, pray again, just think, just like this, stay quietly by your side …

Chapter 2: Love me, my parents have been married for twenty years. My mother is a great beauty, and my father is very ordinary. Many people are joking with my dad outside, ask! Mom is so beautiful, ask him how to catch up with him. Dad always smiles and doesn't talk. With a proud expression on her face, mother secretly smiled. When my mother is free, she will enjoy the cool under a small tree next to the road opposite my father's company. When my father got off work, I stood behind and watched my father and mother holding hands all the time. The wind blowing in the evening is not particularly hot, and the air is full of the fragrance of the forest. I always remember this scene, and the two of them.

I have been married for more than 20 years, and I still look like that. Many old friends see that my mother is as young as ever and hasn't changed at all. I admire my father's protection for my mother, and time has not changed him. No matter how many things he has suffered and how much pressure he has suffered outside, he can still put away all the fatigue and pain when facing his lover, be warm and considerate, and be affectionate, just to give her a happy and stable home, I think.

When I was twelve years old, my father died suddenly. It was still in February. People have just come out of the first month of celebration. Red lanterns are still hanging at home. It's very cold. I'm still wearing new clothes for the Chinese New Year, staying at home with my mother, waiting for the operation. No one has seen my father for the last time. He just left us. My mother knelt in front of my father's bed, so desperate that she couldn't shed tears. There is no light in her eyes. I can't forget it.

I quietly recalled those scenes in my mind. My mother is under that little tree and can't wait for my father to get off work. Now there is no happy scene of three people talking and laughing. I didn't have such a father either. It was not until more than a year later that I turned over the old photos and the family photos that I remembered a problem. I carefully asked once why my mother was with my father. My mother suddenly has a lot of things in her eyes that I can't understand. She said that you young people now. Too impetuous. Life and eating are too fast to find a partner. Few people know about love. It is better to have long running water. At that time, there were many people chasing their mothers, and there were also many people who pursued them enthusiastically. But only my father chased them slowly in the middle. After a long time, those people left after three minutes of heating. Only my father was there. My father and mother really love each other, support each other and look forward to each other. It's hard for us to see water like mom and dad now.

It took a little effort to catch up with your dream girl, even though they didn't know each other. It's nice to see such simple love from mom and dad. Even if the times have changed, there must be some people in the world who are silently persisting and happy. Dad, I love you as much as I love my mother.

Chapter 3: Drunken beauty remembers the promise made at the first meeting, and thorns and hoes go together.

Clear the path in front of the city and set foot on Cangyuan Road.

Yesterday, the colorful leaves were lonely and full of melancholy and drunkenness.

The lotus pond lies under the moon, and the broken dreams come to the old house with the wind. -inscription

An autumn rain is getting colder and colder, lightly opening the porch, listening to the rain chaos, drunk singing and listening to the wind, fragrant ink dyeing, and opening a broken bridge umbrella. The drizzle dyed clothes, the scenery was sad, the eaves were infiltrated, and the rain rhyme flooded the heart. The cold wind brushed my face and leaned against the window. It was misty and rainy outside the window, and there was a lot of sadness in the curtains. Whose beauty are you fascinated by in the misty flower season? In a blink of an eye, summer flowers have gone, and the clock of the years is ringing season after season. Loneliness, the fleeting time through time and space, always staring at me in vain. Who can solve my worries?

The cool breeze of the season shook off the petals, and Qian Qian read aloud in his heart, which year is a leisure year? Splash ink and write wildly, and the floating life has been stolen. Recalling past lives, you sang softly for me, and I sang softly for you in this life. I met you late, wandering in the past love. Pain perception, confused eyes, a barren heart, can you see it? The starlight in her eyes is the tears of her life. Iraqi people are drunk, and there is only one beautiful film left.

Sighing that the height is too cold, the smoke is around the heavy column, the hand is lightly waved, and the mood is still wandering in the drizzle. The residual leaves shed tears, turned into acacia and fell into sadness. Who turned the west wind? Who touches the wind chimes of acacia? Break love's heart Once the lightness of the mountain alliance turned into a cloud and disappeared without a trace. It is difficult to tie the knot, but it is difficult to reconcile love and hate. Rippling heart fragrance, pray for reincarnation and never see you again.

That kind of bitter and thin waiting may be far away, just like a thousand years. Looking around the door, the night is silent, how to cut the chaos? Lotus's pericardium is wrapped with sad people. Can you make a wish? Hold a petal for her and pick a rainbow paddle to awaken the melancholy in her memory. The ground is so cold and foggy that you have the heart to make her face fade? If you love, it's like the first sight. Whose face did the bronze mirror lose? Lonely and shallow, Ling Bo's rhyme soon disappeared. Hold a pool of lotus pond of mind and let euphemistic rhyme flow. I just want to tell you that it is hard to find a bosom friend and it is very warm!

Qing Yu would rather smoke, two short sentences, Qian Qian read in my mind. A poem is like a lotus. If people have flowers and moons every year and don't need infatuation under the crescent spring, who will help them? In the mirror, you ask where the leisure is. A pool of wrinkled flowers and sorrows, the book is boundless and cold, drunk and dreaming, the fragrant soul wants to break the trace of Yuanyang, the thin shadow is beautiful and sad, coming and going, curled up in the world of mortals, and set up a thousand-year watch. I want to send a little red letter with the moon as the medium, asking all my thoughts from afar.

Cold smoke on the stranger, late autumn has been seen, the wind, blowing yellow leaves all over the ground, warming a pot of wine, worrying alone. At this time, the prime word Liao Liao, a chapter of memory, was deeply hurt by the years. After careful reflection, Qingge will be intoxicating. The wind and rain are sad, the geese return to the south, the people do not return, and the rain falls in the depths of the fallen flowers. The pool is empty against the shadow, and tears flow to the heart. About your clips, I searched thousands of landscapes, drunk wind, drunk rain and drunk dreams.

This scene, this heart, this night, this wind, this rain, faint sadness, a throbbing heart in the past, gentle as water, but at that time melancholy! Sighing that the world is getting worse, there are countless unsolved cases and the world of mortals is rolling. How can we live up to it? Gu Shan is high and the water is far away. Meditation is not for practicing, but for leaning on your side. Meditation is not to become a Buddha, but to make you understand. In this life, I only grow red beans in my heart, half of them are you and half are me, tears are my alliance and love is my oath. I just want to borrow your life to grow old with you.

When the season is settled, the shore of the years is stranded, the soul crosses the Nai River, and the feelings go to Cambridge, how can we forget that whisper warms people's hearts? In the world of mortals, the autumn water is lingering, the piano rhyme is lingering, and I dream back at midnight, expecting the deepest world of mortals to meet you again. Just because I like it, I like it when I see your bright smile, and I have no regrets when I read the elegance in your words. Are you the beauty of my life?

Chapter 4: You can't see the love letter. I heard that love is a sacred thing, wonderful and charming.

I heard that love is a silly thing, and I miss you naively and stupidly.

I heard that love is a bumpy thing, muddy, but it still stops.

I heard that love is a very confused thing, and I just want to pay selflessly.

I heard that love is a wonderful thing. When we met, we were destined to fall in love at first sight.

I heard that love is a literary thing, and love letters have long been filled with paper.

When I met you, there was an inexplicable look on the street corner, an unspeakable feeling. I just wanted to protect you from others and make you laugh but not cry. I am destined to meet, and I think I may have found love.

Fall in love, I love you quietly. Whether you are obedient or not, I also want to care about you and take care of you. I just want you to be happier and happier, eat and sleep in my world like a pig, and I don't care about your figure, because I fell in love with you at first sight. I think destiny takes a hand's love, just like fish and water, till death do us part.

When I am angry, I will make you laugh when I think about your angry appearance. I will coax you not to be angry, because being angry is not good, it will affect your brain and say stupid things, so I will practice typing hard, so that I can type more words that make you happy.

Nonsense, I will play with you, and I will make a joke to make you happy. I want to accompany you vigorously once, to accompany you to the finish line, so that you only hate that time is too hasty and you haven't played enough with me.

It is said that red roses represent love. I will buy 1 1 potted plants for you to plant red roses in the future. I just want to accompany you to the old age, love you all my life, and take care of you stupid pig. I will make you my princess.

I want to plant a tree when we start, and then we will follow the saplings to the big tree, so that our love will become sweeter and sweeter. And you, the old woman I used to shout in my old age, will laugh at me, an old and dishonest thing.

I want to hold a wedding for you, hold you at the most beautiful moment of your wedding dress, say the oath of life and death, and realize it slowly, so that you will look silly and naive in my world, and I will always be a beautiful angel, and I will protect you.

I want to take you to leave our footprints. Although the time is too short, we will still go to the place you want to go most and pick up our unique proof. You said you wanted to go to Tibet most, and I have regarded Potala as the most beautiful place.

I want to bring you into this vigorous love, and let us do it till death do us part. When I put the ring on your ring finger, you will say that meeting you is my greatest luck in this life.

Chapter 5: Love is picturesque, and I miss it like a fool. I've been looking for you all the way, spilling it all over the west building and worrying about the noise.

After several years of vicissitudes, for you, my heart is broken and the world is long.

Once upon a time, I wanted to be a prince beside you, gentle and graceful, singing and dancing for you and comforting your loneliness all your life.

Light a lamp in the dark night, grind a Gu Mo under the lamp, and write a song for you on the old rice paper at this time.

Once upon a time, you were a woman beside me, dancing with long sleeves and gently opening your lips to compose a song for me, a long song that soothed my life's sadness.

In the season when the grass grows and the warblers fly, Shili Pavilion, under the dim light, stands as a graceful flower for me with the breeze, which is as beautiful as charm.

The heart is intentional, love is harmless, and love is deep and sharp. Fishing boats sing at night and play with wasted time together. I, on the other hand, must hold your hand and die alone in the desert, so that you won't feel lonely and afraid. In the shadow of the paddle lamp, in front of the canoe, I will give you a hug as always. The maple forest is dyed red with fire, and the west wing sings in pairs with the moon shadow, day and night. I really want to take the rest of your life and grow old in the opposite sight.

Love, with you, picturesque. The tender lotus in my heart opened, which surprised the world.

I can't tell you about my past friendship, but I don't know when I will meet you. I will become attached to Tianshui and play a marriage song of a thousand miles.

Time, please slow down. Praying for Buddha in the last 500 years of previous lives only brought you and me a short-lived relationship in this life.

The sky is not old, the feelings are endless, and the heart has a Qian Qian knot. In the rainy evening breeze, the flowers in the forest faded the red of spring. And I, looking forward to the reunion is doomed to be a melancholy tang style Song Yu, let my life's light acacia far away. Look at the mountains with the ancient rhyme of past lives, and warm your cold in early spring with pen and ink. In the evening, the silent shadow is crumbling. I'm afraid the world of mortals is lonely after all. I broke up with my lover before I was completely happy yesterday.

Miss you like a fool. Knead into my little lingering red note and marvel at the world.

However, life can't stand waiting, the moonlight is red, the sorrow is clear, the frost is like clothes, and the moon window is gaunt. When will the moon be full?

Miss people, you have worked hard for 500 years in your last life, in exchange for my lifelong obsession.

Chapter six: The most familiar stranger, at the end of the flower fifteen years ago, followed Zeng Fu's poem of appreciating flowers. Today's flowers and months are similar, and the feeling of peace is as old as before? -inscription

Looking back on yesterday, I have spent 18 glorious years. Today, when I stand in the place I just visited and look back, I can't remember. The golden harp is fleeting, and it is hard to forget the past.

I like this poem best. It's all frivolous things, and it's all a reminder that it's gone when it's raining. In the mood for love, delicate flowers are most easily destroyed. And ten years ago, I fell in love with him at first sight. It's not that he looks off the list, but the feeling he gives me, like a warm wind blowing on the lake and willow branches swaying in the wind. Soft and graceful, I seem to fly to him, being gently loved by him, feeling warmer and feeling more.

He wore a coat and a small suit, and his face was white and clean, full of fortitude and stubbornness. He is too young. He is surrounded by wisdom and aura. I wore a red trench coat and white snow boots to block his place. He looked up at me, tied me into two steamed buns and a lovely hairstyle, and then giggled with a belly. He hurried upstairs, covering his mouth. Actually, he is my neighbor. I have lived here for so long, but I don't know that I like my neighbors.

I always get up early every time I go to school. I set my alarm clock to five o'clock every night. So I can go out with him at the same time! I was wolfing down my breakfast when I heard him slam the door. Without saying anything, I stopped chopsticks, picked up my schoolbag, tied my shoelaces quickly and slammed the door. I heard a noise, but nothing happened. After waiting for a few minutes, I found him coming down from upstairs in high spirits, only to find that I was still standing in the same place watching him. His face turned red, neither rising nor falling.

I think he is so cute that I can't help laughing for a while. I saw him walk past me firmly and go downstairs. I followed him for a few steps and saw him get into his father's limousine and drive away. I watched him leave from a distance, standing in the wind, letting my hair blow my face. When I got to school, I walked into the classroom gloomily, but I was worried about why I was in a different class from him. I could only blame myself for not being as good as him in academic performance. I was absent-minded in class, passed a few classes in a daze, and I didn't know after school. Carrying a shoulder bag, wandering on the road, only to find him laughing and playing with several girls, I suddenly had mixed feelings, angry and dissatisfied, and even more sour. I can't hold back my tears any longer. Turn around and walk in the other direction. Be a "Chu Liuxiang" and be kind and affectionate everywhere. Wiping away my tears, I plunged into the crowded student crowd, let the crowd cover my tears, let the crowd wrap me up and never see you again! Hmm (expressing hesitation, etc.) ...

Just got home, huh! I don't care about you! Pretend not to know you, ignore you ... you take the key, open the security door, and hold the door respectfully. I pretended to ignore your existence, but I was moved to find your heart beating faster. I said thank you gently and rushed forward, but I heard you say behind me that you were leaving ... such a harmless sentence suddenly made my hope building collapse.

I didn't know until I got to school that you were a day student and wanted to study abroad. I was disheartened. After only a few steps, I ran into a meat wall. I looked up and found it was a monitor. The monitor saw the tears flashing in my eyes, knew my heart, and left a sentence. I will help you express my feelings! I'll give you the answer later, so I left in such a hurry. I held the corner and squatted down slowly, tears streaming down my face. I've known each other for years, and I haven't said anything more than ten times. Now I have to go, leaving only one sentence: I want to leave. The monitor came back and told me your answer, but I don't care anymore. Since you are leaving, how can I keep your heart here?

The day I watched you go, the earth was wrapped in a layer of white clothes. I sighed on the glass and wrote three words that you will never see in your life.

Message: The most familiar stranger, over the years, you have been engraved in my heart, becoming a past and a memory. If there is an afterlife, I hope I can fall in love with you and walk through the warm spring of life in full bloom, which is very good.

Chapter 7: Missing is the magic you planted, and the ends of the earth are only separated by the distance of the heart. If the heart is there, the ends of the earth are close at hand; After measurement, I know that how to cross the wall of missing is a kind of delicate sadness and endless hesitation; It turns out that missing is like wind and rain, dripping everywhere, mottled with years and messy memories. Hesitate a thousand times, suddenly understand that the network is sad, which was planted by you in this life!

I think about it every day, but I dream at night. Last night, the east wind came from the small building, and the east wall of bloom. I still miss you. I always thought I wouldn't contact you, but I forgot over time. As the years passed, my thoughts became stronger and stronger. That year, you planted poison, and there is no medicine to solve it. You go deep into the bone marrow, and your face is still clear.

It takes a long time to wait for a flower to bloom. The years are gray and colorful, with a cool breath. If you don't touch it and pay attention to it, that drop of autumn rain still drops in your eyes, slightly cool, slightly sad and with a different taste. After tossing and turning, I slowly opened the thick book of years, tangled with my feelings line by line, stuck in one place, ferrying at a ferry, looking from a distance, waiting for your casual glance, intoxicated on this covered bridge, and letting you fall into each other's eyes with a smile at the right time and the most beautiful years.

If you spend your whole life just to find you and give yourself a perfection, then the ancient road of red dust, full of missing poems, is plain and graceful, sloppy and romantic, making you look forward to it, with bloom flowers falling and petals moistening your longing for the lost years; A small print is missing, and it is like an ink rain, caring for the warmth of spring breeze and rain, praying that the years will not hurt, and you will still be safe; Think of you calmly, read shallowly, the castle peak is not old, and love is long.

If you can, if you can, in that page, you can look at your thoughts like a mist on the horizon, with simple colors and blue thoughts, and a sunset glow shines on a landscape, every grass, tree, flower and leaf, and your infatuation highlights your feelings in dribs and drabs. Don't. Half a light of leisure, warm a pot of breeze and moonlight, look at you, and talk at night around the stove; The moonlight is like a light gauze, gathering the breeze, missing the end and dreaming, and meeting again in the past, don't you think?

I'm always thinking about the glory of the wall over there, whether it's getting colder and colder in autumn, and whether it's the friendship of falling flowers. Then time passed, ignoring the surroundings, drifting away, autumn wind flying, petals flying, falling at my feet one by one. Which paragraph is a distant message and which paragraph is a proverb left by years.

Miss the rain, always when caught off guard, dripping down, wet the scenery between the brow, wet the ink on the white paper, blurred, destroyed in one word; That miss is the poison you planted. Every day, you are filled with fine print, falling in love, thinking over and over again, and thinking deeply. This poison, after drinking one cup after another, is a wish, planting seeds for a lifetime, making it lush, letting it go with the wind and rain, and enjoying it. Bloom is affectionate, fragrant and red, so he hoes. Drink it yourself, drink it your own way!

I really want to choose a time, calm down, think quietly, think like this, read like this. When it is still there, when it is still allowed, let my thoughts fly as far as possible, hide the vastness, escape the coolness, and count the warmth of flying flowers as it is; Boil water for a period of time, weave flowers of a tree, wait at dusk, and never give up; I have been gentle all my life, and I love you all my life.

I have seen crowds of people coming and going, Chun Qing dancing with butterflies and singing with birds, the change of seasons, my favorite color in early autumn, my love, my melancholy, my misty rain swaying, I singing with ink by the water, and my lingering thoughts. My ink stained the way you planted that time!

Chapter 8: Meeting you is the most beautiful scenery. Love yourself first, and then wait for the right person to live up to this unloved time. -inscription

I once loved someone who never belonged to me, even regardless of my own image and everyone's eyes. At that time, I stubbornly stopped at the same place, but that person had already left, and I never heard my cry or saw my tears again, which made me flustered. That kind of humble, as low as dust, has not produced gorgeous fireworks. Later, I realized that love is like the cup of milk tea I hid in the box at the beginning. If I can't let it go and I can't bear it, it will be moldy and smelly for a long time, and it will even be a burden to both sides.

Thanks to that barren time, I learned the art of giving up. Only from then on, I became cautious, afraid to love and afraid of being hurt. I have built an impenetrable wall in my heart, so that others can't get in and I can't get out.

Fortunately, it's really a beautiful scenery to meet you in the fleeting time. I suddenly realized that no matter how many injuries I have suffered, someone will always make me believe in love. Now, it's you. But unfortunately, it's not me who makes you believe in love. So I began to be jealous. I understand that jealousy comes from concern and from inner self-distrust.

It suddenly occurred to me that my personality has changed a lot. Optimistic and cheerful in junior high school, but sentimental in high school. My junior high school classmates told me not to be such a playboy, not to be merciful everywhere, and my senior high school classmates told me to learn to let go, not to be so infatuated and not to hang myself on a tree. I was hanged once, but now? I don't know, all I know is that I'm afraid of the end of going away from each other.

Keep telling yourself: the road is still so long, how can you bear to stand still and not go far away to find a happy place? But we all know that if I can't sleep peacefully under my favorite tree, what does the whole forest mean to me? Sorry, I couldn't convince myself in the end, so I had to let nature take its course and follow my heart.

After walking so many roads, I gradually understand that some love should not be kept in my heart, but should be kept in my heart. Love from the heart will not be forgotten by the years and will not pass by with time. Love is not a simple possession, but the freedom to break the shackles. Deep love is gentle, willing to give each other warmth and care, let each other live on a branch, not afraid of wind and rain.

If we walk in our respective ends of the earth from beginning to end and never see each other again, then let me put down my obsession, leave only memories, sing softly, and count the sorrows of the years in a shallow or deep time.