Fireworks in March, the past of willow leaves accumulation, finally stepped out of the spring lintel and landed in the delicate and fragrant peach bones. In April, walking on the fragrant spring road, I felt infinite disappointment, holding down my brow, and old worries and new worries came one after another. I can't help but slow down and look timidly at the road ahead. Suddenly I saw butterflies dancing in pairs. The butterfly that once belonged to me danced in the dusk and sang in the moonlight. Where did it go? The vast land, where is the place where it stops. The world of mortals flies like smoke, a lot of dusty things, and finally quietly precipitate into a painting, permanently fixed at that moment.
Following the footsteps of spring, thoughts overflow the window, quietly pass through the treetops, set up a soft wind through the building and float away. Who is standing under that tree? The breeze blew, and her dress rippled like a flower attached to a stem. When the grass nodded, a butterfly jumped on her face. Who is standing under that tree? The clouds moved, and her smile was so deep that it became thousands of wind chimes, constantly turning and shaking the sky from every ray of sunshine.
The sun is passing through the shadow of the window lattice, breaking bit by bit and falling in the middle of the room. The days passed quietly, playing simple songs. Spring flowers are deep red, with a gentle and thorough luster, moistening the red. Looking at the past, it seems within reach, and red is infinitely gentle and sweet. Suddenly, when we met for the first time, those eyes were clear as water, that nostalgia, that smile, bright and clear. The gentle wind passed by the window and wrinkled a lotus-like heart. Looking back, my fingers brushed the scattered hair on my forehead, and my eyes and heart looked farther. In a trance, a figure slowly leaned over from a distance. Ah, come to a smiling flower, swing a boat in the heart of a leaf, and let this faint concern float gently with the wind.
I'm waiting. I've been waiting here. Every dusk, every moonlit night, let every missing nerve in my mind grow wantonly. The days of gathering are always short, and the days of parting are always long. This life has experienced too much waiting, growing in the hope of waiting, maturing in the emptiness of waiting, and being strong in the sadness of waiting. Since we love each other, we should wait and wait wholeheartedly without hesitation. Flowers will bloom when they wither, leaves will regenerate when they fall, and one day, magpies will stop on my branches. After all, you are still the fate of our land.
Turn on the player and listen to an old tune. Sad notes can always make the adult memories hidden in the bottom of my heart appear in front of me in an instant, and beautiful and moving lyrics can always make the youth years that disappeared in the wind return from the memory. The room is full of sunshine and faint flowers. Listening to this sacred tune, I can't think of a happier life. Then, don't complain, don't be sad, don't feel sorry for yourself. May the years be quiet and good, and you are deeply concerned in the world of mortals.
April Mood Essay 2 The rain in Phnom Penh is hot and fierce, like welcoming the arrival of May and leaving April.
Standing on the threshold of May, looking back, April has become yesterday.
A person, sitting alone in front of the window, quietly watching the rain, making a cup of Tieguanyin, with a strong fragrance, turned April into a rain curtain, a homesickness, a painting, a poem, a beautiful memory that will always be left to me.
Every day in April is full of my story.
April is the month I worry about and the month I bless.
April is a month I waited for and a month I missed.
April is a month I have been waiting for, and it is also a month of joy for me.
April dream, Fang Fei is full of pillows.
April dream, beautiful and sweet.
In April, how can I forget the beautiful poems you wrote in my heart with fragrance?
April Mood Essay 3 Time in Ran Ran, the years are seamless, how many years have passed in the blink of an eye? For many years, this spring of green mountains and green waters in April has deeply occupied my whole heart. I like this season, the scene of flowers blooming everywhere, the poetic dream of April, the feeling of people walking in various landscapes in April, and the endless splendor of time.
April is the season of blooming flowers and sowing hope. I want to call it? Passion April? .
Tonight, on a quiet night, I also put some pieces of spring tea on a cup of boiling water, turned on the gentle music tone, leisurely browsed every page of the network, and searched for romantic and lyrical April in my heart in the network. I don't want to leave too thin April language under the pen tip, for fear of feeling endless emotions and rolling up waves.
Rivers and streams still repeat their unchanging tones.
The laughter of the spring breeze is still singing its unique rhapsody!
Only I have been through this April spring for many years, and I miss April's eternal love for me!
I like the green fields, rivers, birds and flowers in April best, but I can't sing my brave words, which affects all April feelings, and I can't forget the lingering shadows in April every year.
April's beauty, April's warmth and April's affection, who can understand the loneliness and paleness of April standing behind the waiting? Is it the earth, spring breeze or flowers?
At this time, I stuck myself in April, recorded a period of mood, talked about the past for a while, made up a few lines of words, and killed some time for words to ask for some of their own happiness.
The air in April is filled with fragrance, which brings me interest in tapping the keyboard deeply. I deeply breathe the elements in every gas molecule, the scenery created for my life, and the breath of hope for me. I brought this warm spring, brewing in the long quiet night of the Spring Festival Evening in April.
It's late at night, and the enchanting artistic conception of spring scenery makes me deeply forget this cup of spring tea!