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The apple of inspiration fell on my head, and I discovered the law of universal gravitation that belongs to poetry!

I stared at the serious eyes in the waves of the Qiantang River, and realized the perseverance flowing in his soul for ten years.

Inspiration grows fantasy flowers among the bright high-rise buildings. This is modern poetry!

In winter, I build a snowman of poetry. So white, so happy. That is the shape of innocence!

In order to become the poet who writes the most poetry in the world. In order to let the world appreciate the infinite charm of Chinese poetry. Keep working hard!

I walked leisurely along the quiet paths in the park, letting the street lights of Narya lengthen my poetic shadow and slowly spread it on the road of time.

The sea breeze spreads the boundless propaganda paper, and the waves are the lines of poetry we write. Every time the tide rises and falls, we recite this long chapter of love that will never fade.

Poetry is in the elegance of tea, poetry is in the simplicity of earth, poetry is in the dancing of the sea of ​​stars. Poetry is everywhere!

I look at your hair dancing in the breeze, and the flowers bloom eight hundred miles south of the Yangtze River.

I carried the protective steel plate of the car, the hope of life, the power of steel. Tighten the rigorous screws to allow the car to drive to the far reaches of realism.

This is the world of ancient poetry, with chrysanthemums arrayed all over the city.

Leave the charm of ancient Chinese poetry all over the world. The whole earth is filled with Chinese style.

When the moss marks spread over the vermilion fence The inkstone was overturned Half of the unfilled word cards are floating on the river Ripples spread out the seal characters Stacked flat and flat to form the silhouette of a awning boat The rhyme that shakes a river of stars to pieces

When the wind tore and the rain rolled over me, thousands of muddy fists were splashed on the ground, like wildly jumping water splashes. If fate dared to drown my ideals, I would use my bones to carve unyieldingly into the waves.

Don't tell us anything about Big Sky Boring We just stared at the ground at our feet Look at the green wheat and it looks fresh The wind blows through the wheat waves It's like talking Don't beat around the bush‖ We are farming No other name Water at sunrise Sit on the field and smoke at sunset Not so particular I don't want to be a poet either I just want to keep this piece of wheat Live a normal life

That water wave, with its ripples, is a beautiful prose poem!

The white clouds spreading in the sky are like sonnets on the blue poetry paper, and each one is filled with tenderness and romance.

When the poor people are in trouble, when will the dragon dance? In the future, the meal will be ripe, and the dream will bring relatives and old friends together.

I burned away the ink fragrance of my poem manuscript, The stars blooming from the ashes, It is a light left to the world.

Let us explore the earth with endless meanings through the remote sensing satellite of poetry. Everything in the world is like a fable.

The stars will shine every night! Just like my undying passion for poetry.

Poetry is the warm sun that makes every inch of mountains and rivers shine!

I used a microscope to look at the cell structure of green leaves. Isn't this the beautiful city of poetry!

I look at the deep shadows of the moon sea and think of my love for you, Just like the depth under the moonlight, there is no end in sight.

Through the astronomical telescope of ancient Chinese poems, I saw the beautiful starry sky of world mythology!

The ink marks climb up the veins of the leaves, leaving this broken leaf to drift in the world of rivers and lakes.

In the chemical reaction, I saw the brilliant sparks of ancient words!

Every ordinary thing There are unread rhymes hidden in them, when their eyes meet Aurora quietly blooming into poetry

When the wind and rain collide with stars, I look for the glimmer of ancient and modern Chinese and foreign poetry in the gaps of time.

I fold my mood into the wind with tooth marks There are wet spots hidden in the paper texture When it passes over the window sill, the sun is opening its palms Catch the shadows sprouting in the folds From the corners of the wind, glowing wings grow

The wind holds the tail of the moonlight paper on night sky Spreading translucent branches Every mark is so light Like unfinished thoughts

Stuff the crumpled paper into the wind Didn't write "missing"-- I only mentioned the old persimmon tree in the back hill. This year The fruit dropped earlier than last year. ‖ The wind did not turn back. But at night, the patterns on the back of each leaf They were all crooked and said for the mountain: "Received."‖ The rain hit the glass without making a loud noise I counted the sounds, like counting When I was a child, my mother used stitches to mend clothes. Until the crack in the window leaks in, and the first ray of coolness comes.

Use the most magnificent imagination and the most sincere pen and ink to describe all kinds of things in the world and everything in the universe. Everything becomes poetry!

There are sparse bamboo shadows in front of Jinli Hall. Poetry, poetry, poetry and character. Zimei always holds simplicity in her heart, The sound of the river under the pen enters the painting.

I saw the moon bending in the sky, I was so hung up that I sang a few songs in the wind-- And it leads to a thousand points of beauty in the clouds, There are several layers of light hook mountains. ‖ The silver glow does not scatter the light, Every strand is the hope of the world-- The song follows the clouds and circles the top of the mountain, All are gently wrapped by the new moon.

The drizzle in the south of the Yangtze River is like a silent string in my heart, whispering my lingering melancholy.

The glass office building pulled me into the thinking of modernism with its shining hand.

Qilu, what are you? It is the opposing peaks on both sides of the river, and the flat water flowing in the river. I will ride down the river on a rhyming bamboo raft and chant your miracles!

In the psychedelic chessboard of life, I hold the lamp of noble faith, and the pieces fall like stars, with no regrets or regrets. That's my symbolism!

I raise my tea to the sky, feeling the freshness and freedom of the fragrant mist! That rising expression is free verse!

I am bathing in the gentle breeze of the south of the Yangtze River, using my soul as a string, gently twisting every inch of poetry, and every thread is my attachment to my family and my hometown.

I saw metrical poetry in the rows of modern high-rise buildings. The sun shines in the daytime, and the dark night shines on the world!

We took a painted boat and anchored it in the center of the West Lake. The setting sun turned the boat's shadow into light gold. Let those love words and poems that hide the heartbeat, follow the gentle ripples on the side of the ship, and ripple across the blue waves - like spring catkins falling into the soft wind, like lotus fragrance entangled with willow silk, quietly spreading into long rolls in the water light, every water ripple is spreading our years.

Modern poetry is a brocade woven with rhythm, embroidering the fragrance of time.

The touch of fingertips is like tapping the secret words of computer code, Light and shadow leap into the eyes, igniting the fire of poetry!

I dance with my nunchaku, and the shadow of the stick is like a dragon swimming in the sea of ink, Every wave is the surge of poetry.

Ancient words are a magical seasoning that make the world's food more delicious and attractive!

Looking down between heaven and earth, the deepest and truest sigh in my heart is poetry!

Every ray of sunshine is a beautiful line of poetry. I look up at the sun of this poem!

Senior Lu Shi, your contrasting and neat attire is like opposing stars, reflecting each other in the night sky, shining brightly on the thoughts of the world.