Waiting for flowers

That night blossomed, the stars were full, but I didn't look at it.

I am now spent, the stars are still there, I regret it.

The wind is thin, the rain is dancing, and the red is fragrant.

Lost, fell in love, I am waiting for flowers in my dreams. --Inscription

Suddenly began to miss the flowers. Pink cherry, blue gentian, twilight lavender, from near to far, extend to the end of the distant sky. I am a lonely child walking along this thin road, sniffing the fragrance of flowers and falling in love with the shadows behind me. The top of the head is the smashing cherry blossoms, the hand is the tranquility of the gentian, the gentleness of the lavender is next to me, I am like a butterfly, lost here. The chaotic red flies over the swing, and the Luo curtain is light and cold, I only feel that I am leaning against the dangerous building, and the wind is thin.

I can't remember when I saw the flowers, but I vaguely remember the glory that stretched out to the horizon. The flowers are beautiful! I am like a pilgrim, devoutly facing the flowers, closing my eyes, hands clasped together, washing my soul. I heard the flowers laughing, laughing so happy, and laughing like a silver bell.

Childhood is childhood! The immature me, the one who stopped under the dim light, the one who was surprised in the rain, waiting to return again.

I am a lonely child, forgetting the thin road under my feet, yearning for the fragrance of flowers, and falling in love with the shadow behind me.

Count the knot on the rope, count the day, the shadow of time is reflected on the wall, a layer of faint yellow, the yellow of the old photo, the yellow of the old book page, the yellow engraved with childhood. The footprints of time are left on the wall, and my childhood is left at the stone steps under my feet and will not come back.

I am a butterfly, lost in the sky, flying quietly.

Who is holding me in the wind? These hands are so warm.

Who led me to fly in the rain? This voice is so gentle.

Who is it, who is it, so that I am so attached to it, do not want to fly again?

I am a butterfly lost in time, flapping its wings and looking up lightly. I forgot the flowers of spring and forgot the tide of summer. I can't fly to the sea, I can't wait for the mulberry field, I can't hear the spring splashing. In time and memory, I forgot the way and deviated from the navigation mark.

The flowers are open, the door is open, and the ear is a long-forgotten melody. The wind is blowing, blowing a pool of spring water, blowing a piece of Fangfei. The sun shines warmly, I fly happily.

Drunk, the door is asleep, the moonlight is flowing like a stream. The string is broken, the song is broken, who is listening? Who is guilty of hurting, who is clear? Stars reached out and I struggled to fly.

The flowers are gone, the door is closed, and the kites are nostalgic in the clouds. Drinking the wine of Zhongshan, I look back, but I saw Yang Hua had no shadow. It’s another geese going to Yangan. I am waiting for the light, but I don’t know who I’m thinking about and I’m flying.

It was rain, the rain, and the threshold.

It’s rain, it’s raining, it’s cool and the flowers fly.

The rain was low and the lake was broken. I could not fly.

Will not nostalgia, no longer nostalgia, that sleeping pond. I can't afford to chase after the wind.

I am a butterfly lost in the stars, draped in a faint starlight, and can't forget the sadness in my heart. Look at the moon is utterly incomplete, look at the moon into a full string, see the moon hanging in the treetops lonely, watching the moon sink into the sea to shake. I am in the sky, eager to be a true self, and reject the earthly feelings. Starlight can't dispel my sorrow.

The night always comes to an end, and quietly leaves. The eyes only see the results, can't see that they are always in the process.

The stars bloom like flowers and penetrate the layers of smog. Qiuyin does not scatter frost and fly late, can't cover its smile; a little cold is no sleep, can't erase its clear. The stars are blooming in the sky, and they are all colorful, although not eternal, but also long. They were born in peace, lost in splendor, and bloomed in life.

The stars sway like flowers and fly with the wind. Going to the end of the sky, the road deviates from the intended direction. Gradually and gradually, gradually drifting away, the angle is still the same, but already far from the end. Like a year of water, there have been many people in the line of sight, and many people have faded. I look up to the sky, and the stars are still smiling. I am lost in the stars, and I miss the songs I once had.

The stars are as sad as flowers, and they bury their minds quietly. Tears are fascinated by the light of the stars and the fragrance of flowers. The clouds are increasing, and the air seems to be filled with brackish moisture, and the moon is also hiding in the clouds. The light outside the sky quietly fell, crystal clear, fleeting, like a beautiful smile, like tears. Shayan Nara, Shayan Nara, the water lotus in the sky! The starlight faded, dawn came, and I went back to loneliness.

It is rain, the rain, the release of the silver sand under the moon.

It’s rain, the rain, the fallen star flower.

The rain whispered, the year went by, and he was drunk by him!

The meteor is like a small white ship, scratching the moon and cutting the flowers.

I am a butterfly lost in a dream, sinking in the stream, waiting for the train that has long gone. Lightly on the crystal clear water, looking for the floral fragrance dissolved in the water. The wings are wet, and the tears are cold and heavy. I can't fly, I imagine the flowers of the sky under the stars. Maybe tomorrow, I will be the most beautiful flower in the lake, in the blue lake, doing blue dreams. I will dream of the golden wings and take me free to fly.

Sixth grade: Chen Yu