Modern Children s Poems 1 1 2 pages Fast !!!!

"If".

If I were a teacher.

I have to go to PE classes a lot.

So as not to disappoint students.

If I were Dad.

I must quit drinking.

lest my mother weep so often.

If I were God.

I'm going to make people laugh and not cry.

Because everybody laughs ridiculously.

Spring BirdSpring Bird is a good companion of the golden voice, and every morning it wakes me up from my dreams, and my mother says that Spring Bird is calling me, and she wants me to go with her into the big forest and listen to the beautiful chorus of nature.

The bamboo shoots quietly arched out of the earth to inquire about the secret of the green trees and the news of the blooming flowers in the spring.

The pomegranate blossoms are blooming, it is Aunt Xia who has tied it, the bright bow is ripe, the pomegranate fruit is ripe, and it is Mother Autumn shaking the red bells of the harvest.

The little holes in the straw hat are the doors that I opened for the sun, and you see the sun is coming down, and they are mischievously stepping on my shadow, and they leave their footprints on my shadow.

BudsSpring is here The weather is warm Come out quickly Little bud buds Don't just show a small head How beautiful is the bark outside Come out quickly The sun will give you Wear green clothes The spring breeze will give you sweet dew drops.

The night of the fishing fire is quiet, the river is a good child, listening to the words of the moon mother, sleeping, the fisherman lights up the fishing fire, the river is like opening his eyes, talking in a dream.

The kite flies, flies, flies The high kite flies with the bird, so can it bring my words to the bird?

I miss what I told you, and you said you won't forget what you told me? And I treasure them all, and for us, memories are days that never fade.

Clothes, Mother's youth, shrink in your eyes, but Mother says, As long as you put on you, yourself is like the land of March, and life weaves naughty at that moment.

Imagine the story of seven people in the jungle Tempting me to hide in a fairy tale, leaving my parents crazy and anxious to speed in my imagination.

Smell a lot of "One Sentence".

There is a saying that is a curse, and there is a saying that can light a fire.

Don't look at the five thousand years without saying it, can you guess through the silence of the volcano?

Maybe it was a sudden enchantment, and suddenly a thunderbolt in the blue sky.

Burst: Our China! ”

What does this teach me to say today?

If you don't believe that the iron tree can bloom, then there is a sentence you listen to:

Wait for the volcano to be silent, don't tremble, stick out your tongue, pause, and wait until a thunderbolt in the blue sky.

Burst: Our China! ”

"Their Tomorrow".

their world.

Although there is no beautiful ** bright and glossy.

But their blood is boiling, it's burning, it's jumping.

"Their Tomorrow".

It can also be as joyful as ordinary people.

Take our hands with them.

Spread love to every corner of the world.

Our eyes are your eyes.

The most beautiful scenery is in your heart.

Translated by Verlaine Gray.

The moon shone in the woods, on the branches and under the leaves.

Make a sound.

Ah, the sweetheart.

The pond is like a deep mirror, reflecting the black willow shadows, and the wind sobs and ...... the willow tops

Dream it, it's time.

Expansive, warm tranquility.

It seems to go down. A starlit sky.

This is the moment of happiness.

Feng'er smiled.

Swing in the trees.

Bai thousand. Racing du on the steppe

In the yard, the leaves are used as darts.

DAO is dancing with butterflies.

The wind howls. Blowing back to the flowers and trees.

Answer the right questions with people everywhere.

Roll up countless things.

The wind is enthusiastic. Cool in the heat.

It is to send help in an emergency.

Wind, you are the root of all things.

Wind, you are the driving force of all things.

You are indispensable in the world, O wind.

Stars We are seedlings.

We're growing.

Teachers are like the sunshine of spring.

No fire, no burning.

"Like a Dream Order" (Li Qingzhao).

I often remember the twilight of Xiting, and I am drunk and don't know the way back.

Returning to the boat at night, I strayed into the depths of the flowers.

Fighting, fighting, startling a shoal of gulls and herons.

"Ride the train" Dad took me on the train, and when the train started, the things outside the window moved;

The mountains began to recede, the trees receded, and the houses receded......

Wow! Everything went backwards, so weird and fast, we didn't have to walk, and we arrived in Taipei all at once.

Aunt Qiu" We think of Aunt Qiu.

Just think of the harvest.

I haven't met Aunt Qiu.

But I guess Aunt Qiu's face.

It's red, it's round.

Chubby I haven't seen Aunt Qiu.

But I guess Aunt Qiu.

is a painter.

Aunt Qiu came.

and to the fruit trees and the crops.

Smeared with a golden one.

Fiery red color.

Aunt Qiu: I'm busy.

She gives all.

Baskets and sacks.

It's all loaded with plump particles.

Heavy fruit.

The fruit loves to pout.

Make an observation

The basket is too small to fit!

Aunt Qiu, she's so nice.

She sent it to us.

A cool breeze.

Make that to the village to see the yard.

Little brothers, grandmothers.

The puff fan on the handle.

Put one away, one handful.

Aunt Autumn came draped in dewdrops.

Stepping on the frost flowers, he quietly walked away.

She left us behind.

Another harvest joy.

I learned to write" When I learned to write "little sheep", all of a sudden, the trees, the houses, the fences, everything I saw with my eyes was bent and rolled up like wool.

When I took the word "river" and wrote it in my little exercise book, a splash of water splashed in front of my eyes, and a palace rose from the bottom of the water.

When I finished writing "meadow" with my pen, I saw bees busily among the flowers, two butterflies whirling, and I could put them all in the net with a wave of my hand.

If I write "my dad", I immediately want to sing and jump a few times, I'm the tallest, I'm the best, I'm the best, I can do everything.

Take me with me, my kite, take me to the blue sky!

I'm going to fly in the sky, I'm going to hover in the sky, I'm going to fly like a bird, I'm going to fly over the sea, I'm going to fly over the ocean.

Take me with you, my kite, and take me to the blue sky!

To see how wonderful the world is in the sky, to see how good the children are in the world, I want to hold hands with them, I want to laugh with them.

Take me with you, my kite, and take me to the blue sky!

Stars We are seedlings.

We're growing.

Teachers are like the sunshine of spring.

No fire, no burning.

Giving us the nutrients we need to grow.

A pair of small hands holding pencils.

Gradually, I picked up the pen.

Write a book We are seedlings.

We're growing.

Teachers are like a summer breeze.

Not abrupt, not cold.

Teach us what we need to know about being a human being.

A pair of eyes thirsty for knowledge.

Slowly, the peach blossom pond water.

Thousands of feet deep, the teacher is like rain and dew.

Let's stop being thirsty.

Look at your smile, we.

From "Qingqingen Nakakui".

to "all things are born of brilliance".

From "the little lotus only shows sharp corners".

to "the lotus flowers are different red".

If said before dawn.

Be sure to go through a period of darkness.

Then you are a sky full of stars.

A guiding light.

Guide us to the dawn.

Towards maturity That night, the wind picked up the last rays of the sunset.

You quietly spread the nets all over the sky.

Don't say a star a little.

You have to salvage the time forgotten by the sun.

When the morning glow holds up the golden umbrella.

You quietly retreat into the distance.

When the jade wheel hangs a lantern.

You are ashamed to hide yourself.

You drive fatigue into the mantle.

There was a look of concern in his eyes.

Regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter.

You keep watch with sincerity.

Turned into a ray of light.

You are not as arrogant as thunder and lightning.

With their own short life.

Write a glorious poem.

Don't say it's just a little star.

It's the golden ideal singing.

You build the bridges of tomorrow.

The first ushered in the dawn of the eastern sky.

Time carving knife.

What is time?

It is a carving knife that carves minutes and seconds, leaving marks on everyone.

Give the baby two legs, carve out two wind wheels, let him grow taller day by day, and run away with laughter.

Give the elementary school student two eyes, carve out a question mark like a small ear, and let his thick eyebrows be twisted into inquisitive thinking.

Give the big brother's chin, carve out a stubble of black leeks, let his rough throat, and sing the pride of youth.

Carve beautiful staves on the faces of grandfathers and grandmothers, and let them play sweet ballads under the red sunset.

Ah, this invisible carving knife works diligently, without any difference, it is impartial to no one, and it is always so fair.

It carves a stupid turtle to a child who does not value time, and crawls behind it with a heavy sigh.

It carves a big red horse for a diligent child, and every day it always flies with its hooves flying, running ahead of others.

It gives people who have made great contributions, carved an almighty passport, and no matter where you go, you will see a spring-like smile.

It carves a certificate of disqualification for a person who has achieved nothing, and although he is still very young, he is too old to be old.

This time carving knife is so iron-faced and selfless.

It tests everyone's attitude towards time, whether you are old or young.

I hope that everyone will use the carving knife of time to carve for themselves.

A pride in life.

The moon of my childhood (original by myself).

Moon. You're in the river.

A small bowl of childhood.

Scoop you out of the water.

Swinging into the house.

Moon. You're in the ground.

A summer night when frogs are crowing.

Pick up the sorghum leaves and see you.

Your trench coat, we hide from cats.

Moon. In the pillow.

The story of the windmill.

Turned down the stars.

The childhood years have been with you all the way.

Net hook (my original children's poem).

Night, a big net.

The stars were netted.

The net caught the moon.

The stars are blinking, and so is the moon.

Night, a big hook.

Hooked the school bag.

Hooked toy.

The bag didn't move, and the toys didn't move.