Butterfly and flower

Butterfly and flower

After the winter, the earth took off its white and replaced it with green clothes.

A lily blooms quietly, and meets the warm sunshine. She is so excited, so passionate, she flows with intoxicating green veins, showing the fragrance, the sun dancing on the pure petals, she is so pure, So beautiful. She, also dancing, is also listening to the quiet breathing.

A demeanor, arrogant, full of colorful butterflies, free to swim above the green space, he feels the breath of spring. By chance, he saw "a little white in the green jungle." Dish and flowers, smashed. The dish is intimately attached to the flower, sucking the sweetness of the flower.

Butterfly and flower, talking, laughing, in the green, under the splendor.

Sunshine rest, night duty. Butterfly, floating home, falling in love with flowers. Flower, looking at the moon, love the butterfly.

The butterfly swayed the soft wings, bid farewell to the flowers, and met tomorrow. However, it is to suck the sweetness of flowers again. Flowers, it is clear that the butterfly is just sweet, just as clear and transparent as the uncontaminated Tianshui. It is also clear that the butterfly is free. It is impossible to stay on only oneself. The butterfly and its sisters, the fish and the geese, the water Furong-like sisters play and fight. Butterfly, not just flowers. However, the flower does not understand his own thoughts, the flowers are very embarrassing, and if the butterfly is in front of her eyes, if it is present, it will be hidden and empty. Flowers, stunned, I really want to interpret what my heart thinks. She only knows that she still loves the butterfly, thinks about the butterfly, waits for the butterfly, looks forward to the butterfly, prepares the sweetness for the butterfly for the night, until late at night. With the bright moonlight, the flowers recalled the figure fluttering, and they all had a kind of breath.

Flowers, fear that the butterfly will miss themselves, afraid that the butterfly will not recognize the way the flowers are combined, the white petals will be opened early, and the rich hope to wait for the first meter of sunshine in the morning, waiting for the arrival of the butterfly.

Finally, the butterfly danced, once again affixed with flowers, penetrated into the heart of the flower, sucking the sweetness that was carefully prepared for a night. The butterfly penetrates the heart of the flower.

The sun is pleasingly pleasing, on the pure petals of the flowers, on the wings of the butterfly. The greenness, freshness, vitality, youth and love of spring all reflect the mood of butterflies and flowers. The butterfly is surrounded by flowers, surrounded by flowers, attached to flowers, holding flowers, and loving flowers. The flower found that the sky rose with love, red rose, flower, really tempted! The flower sings a moving song, and the butterfly dances next to it. In the evening, after the butterfly sucked the sweetness of the flower again, he invited him to go to the other side of the mountain with him to watch the charming scenery of the sunset. Flowers, I want to think, I just want to, just, she can only stay in this greenery in this life. Flowers, tears, still in love with the butterfly. But the butterfly left the last glance of love, left, drifted to the sea, farther and farther and farther and farther. Flowers understand that the farthest distance in the world is not life and death, but that I stand in front of you, but you don't know that I love you!

The flowers are crying in the green, the faint pain, blended into the thick green. But she still loves the butterfly, waiting for the butterfly, waiting for him to come to her again, she is willing to prepare a sweet for the butterfly for a night, willing to sacrifice for the butterfly sleep. I just want the butterfly to come to the flower again, pick up the lost sleep, wash away the wounds of the soul, and then stick to her and infiltrate her.

However, the butterfly never came back. Perhaps, the butterfly no longer needs the sweetness of the flower; perhaps, the dish found another flower that is more beautiful and moving; perhaps, the butterfly has forgotten the flower...

Flowers, still in love with butterflies, waiting for the butterfly.

The next day, the agitation and the nighttime soothing alternately reflect the flowers, flowers, still, love the dish, but the pure white snow of the petals adds a bit of paleness, just "the belt is gradually widened and does not regret, because it relies on people."

With a green heart, I listen to the soul of spring, gazing at the splendour of the sun, and my hopes and beliefs.

Flower love butterfly, still! Maybe, looking back is already awkward!

The fifth grade of Taishan Elementary School in Quanshan District, Xuzhou, Jiangsu: Han Yujia