First snow in 2019
Snow, carried by the winter wind, faintly swaying and screaming surprises, such as a cool kiss, kissing every air; like a lightly dancing elf, dancing in an innocent space, creeping down, stacking up us best wishes.
On the snowy day, when I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw the snowy scene, and the earth seemed to be wrapped in silver. I rushed to ask my parents to get up and watch the snow. My parents said, "Where is the snow when it is not snowing?" Then he went into the bed again. When I was at school, I passed a breakfast shop. Touching the stomach, it seems to feel a little hungry, then went in and sat down to ask for a glutinous rice and a bottle of milk.
Sitting inside did not feel cold and turned on the heater. The speed at the store was very fast. After a while, a bowl of hot glutinous rice and a bottle of warm milk appeared in front of me. Through the misty glass door, I looked at the snow outside. I finished eating. breakfast.
The sound of music is unique to this white elf. It was said that it was the snoring of snow. Snow, experienced a tired journey from the sky, began to fall asleep as soon as it landed. When I came to school, the bright snow covered the red and green playground, white and shining with good white light. Throwing the snowball in the handle to the classmates, jokingly said that this is the best greeting card of the New Year; burying the heavy scores and complicated calculations into the cold, indulgent laughter, shaking off the shackles of youth and youth.
The white elf flutters and dances, drawing a silver arc between the heavens and the earth, like a proud winter butterfly, spinning at the intersection of each latitude and longitude, rotating between each ice-cut sky, rotating in its own circle There will never be a similar version, looping without stopping - looking up silently.
Snow, unscrupulously open smiles, in their pure season. The smile is in the rippling, in the volatility, in the spin, in the publicity, in the infiltration without a hint of agile air. A cut white plum was also dyed, and the first scent was faintly opened. Flying and elegant, they took up the remnant leaves and invited them to join the ranks of dancing.
The fog curtain of Wenzhou Jiuzhong Seventh Class has been woven to that side. Thinking about going far away, gently stepping on this kind of softness, inadvertently looking back: the traces of a string of songs, deep and shallow...
On the snowy day, when I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw the snowy scene, and the earth seemed to be wrapped in silver. I rushed to ask my parents to get up and watch the snow. My parents said, "Where is the snow when it is not snowing?" Then he went into the bed again. When I was at school, I passed a breakfast shop. Touching the stomach, it seems to feel a little hungry, then went in and sat down to ask for a glutinous rice and a bottle of milk.
Sitting inside did not feel cold and turned on the heater. The speed at the store was very fast. After a while, a bowl of hot glutinous rice and a bottle of warm milk appeared in front of me. Through the misty glass door, I looked at the snow outside. I finished eating. breakfast.
The sound of music is unique to this white elf. It was said that it was the snoring of snow. Snow, experienced a tired journey from the sky, began to fall asleep as soon as it landed. When I came to school, the bright snow covered the red and green playground, white and shining with good white light. Throwing the snowball in the handle to the classmates, jokingly said that this is the best greeting card of the New Year; burying the heavy scores and complicated calculations into the cold, indulgent laughter, shaking off the shackles of youth and youth.
The white elf flutters and dances, drawing a silver arc between the heavens and the earth, like a proud winter butterfly, spinning at the intersection of each latitude and longitude, rotating between each ice-cut sky, rotating in its own circle There will never be a similar version, looping without stopping - looking up silently.
Snow, unscrupulously open smiles, in their pure season. The smile is in the rippling, in the volatility, in the spin, in the publicity, in the infiltration without a hint of agile air. A cut white plum was also dyed, and the first scent was faintly opened. Flying and elegant, they took up the remnant leaves and invited them to join the ranks of dancing.
The fog curtain of Wenzhou Jiuzhong Seventh Class has been woven to that side. Thinking about going far away, gently stepping on this kind of softness, inadvertently looking back: the traces of a string of songs, deep and shallow...
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