Whoever has a good paragraph, urgently, no less than 150 words

It's a pity that my account was blocked for a few days. This is abominable!!

In July, the sky was clear and the sun hung like a fireball, and the clouds seemed to have been burned by the sun and disappeared without a trace.

Spring is gone with the falling flowers, and the green leaves in summer are jumping in the warm breeze.

The early summer sun shines through the dense layers of foliage, and the ground is covered with sparkling spots the size of copper coins.

The wind blows with a slight warmth, and from time to time it brings the cuckoo call, which tells us: "Spring has returned." ”

Grass, reeds, and red, white, and purple wildflowers were basked by the fiery sun that hung high in the sky, and the air was filled with a sweet and intoxicating scent.

In early summer, wildflowers of all colors bloom, red, purple, pink, and yellow, like brilliant spots embroidered on a large green carpet; Swarms of bees are busy among the flowers, sucking the stamens and flying around diligently.

In the middle of summer, the weather is so hot that even dragonflies dare to fly close to the shade of trees, as if they are afraid that the sun will hurt their wings.

There was not a single cloud in the sky, not a single wind, a blazing sun overhead, and all the trees stood listlessly and lazily.

In the middle of summer in July, there is not a single cloud in the blue sky, the fiery sun scorches the earth, the water in the river is hot, and the soil in the field is smoking.

The sun was blazing, and on both sides of the road, ripe grains were so hot that they bent over and bowed their heads. Grasshoppers are as numerous as blades of grass, and in the wheat and rye fields, in the wheat and rye fields, in the reeds on the shore, make a faint and noisy chirping.

The sun is like a big fireball, the light is scorching, the road is scorched by the scorching sun, and the feet step down into a string of white smoke.

The weather was swelteringly hot, and there was not a trace of wind, and the thick air seemed to freeze.

The whole city is like a burnt brick kiln, making people breathless. The dog lay on the ground and spat out its bright red tongue, and the nostrils of the mule and horse were particularly wide.

The blazing umbrella was high in the air, so hot that the fish in the river did not dare to show the water, the birds did not dare to fly out of the mountains and forests, and even the dogs in the village only stretched out their tongues and gasped.

That day, it was madly hot. As soon as the sun came out, the ground was already on fire, and some gray gas, which seemed to be clouds but not clouds, and fog but not fog, floated low in the air, making people feel breathless.

It was a long dry summer, the hot sun had baked the old loaches in the fields white, the stream at the edge of the village, the stream was a few inches lower, and the exposed stones became steep and larger.

The bird did not know where it had hid; The plants and trees were all depressed, as if they were dying; Only he knows, and ceases to cease to cried out in the branches; It's really a broken gong and a broken drum cheering for the scorching sun!

The willows in the street looked as if they were sick, and their leaves were hanging with dust and curling on their branches, and the branches did not move. The road glowed white, the vendors did not dare to shout, and the plexiglass signboard in front of the store seemed to be sunburned.

Disrespecting the self-esteem of others is like a jewel that cannot stand the sun.

I thought of hope, and suddenly I became afraid. When Runtu asked for the censer and the candlestick, I secretly laughed at him, thinking that he always worshipped idols and never forgot them. Isn't my so-called hope now also an idol that I have made myself?

It's just that his wish is near, and my wish is far away.

In the haze, I saw a sea of turquoise sand, and a full golden moon hung in the deep blue sky above. I thought: Hope is something that doesn't matter what it is, what it doesn't care about. It is like the way of the earth; In fact, there was no road on the earth, but when many people walked, it became a road.

"This year's laughter will return to next year, the autumn moon and spring breeze and so on. "Bathed in the warm autumn sunshine, I inadvertently saw such poems when reading, which made me think a lot of thoughts, and my imagination flowed, although the life depicted by Bai Juyi was relaxed and leisurely, but the words always gave people a negative and decadent feeling. In autumn, everything begins to be sluggish, the cool breeze is blowing harder and harder, and a bleak breath rushes straight to the heart, and there is a sense of "autumn moon and spring breeze and other leisure" and "sad autumn is also angry, and the bleak grass and trees shake down and decay" The sense of worry arises spontaneously.

At this time, my emotions, like the withered leaves, sang a poignant parting song; Listening to the crickets in the yard was slender and long, gently knocking on my heart, swaying wisps of sadness, lamenting that the years are not forgiving, I am ashamed of writing articles now, and sighing for the fact that I have achieved nothing in my life. The clouds return to the sunset, how much does it turn around? Prosperous like flowing water, prosperous like the other side.

Life is short, and now I am lonely and sad like the lonely goose that isolated, and I feel helpless to fall into the dust like a sad autumn leaf. Now I feel that the biggest regret in life is to "cherish time and cherish life". "Young people don't know the taste of sorrow", that is, when they are already old, when they look back on the past, they still have a little regret, and they still have to sigh like this:

If only time could be turned back! But the shame and sigh at this time are of no avail, it is too late. Think about it, where will time go back, where will youth come back?

The smoke and rain are misty and diffuse into a mood. Love to listen to lyrical ** on a drizzly day and appreciate the beautiful text. It can bring me a kind of purity, and words are another life for me.

If you pretend to be in the freshness and eternity of prose, if you pretend to be in the classics of poetry and songs, enjoy your own tranquility. Thoughts flicker like water. "The bluebird doesn't know the letter outside the clouds, and the lilacs are empty and sad in the rain.

Reading such poems always has a kind of graceful thoughts, and a touch of sadness grabs the heart lake. （150）

A rich man went to see a philosopher, and the philosopher took him to the window and said to him, "Look out and tell me what you see?" "A lot of people. The rich Xinbi servant said.

Then the philosopher took him to a mirror and asked, "What do you see now?" "Myself".

He. "The window slippery and the mirror are glass, and the difference is only a thin layer of silver. The philosopher said, "But this silver means that you see only yourself and no one else." ”

The campus is a happy home for our childhood learning and life, a learning space for us to swim in the ocean of knowledge, and a cradle for us to learn to live, learn to be a person, learn to care, and learn to live with others; The campus connects our emotions, records our lives, and mosaics our footprints. On campus, there are our laughter and memories, our successes and regrets, and our dreams and hopes. In the early morning, the sun rises and the campus is bathed in sunlight.

We wore clean and tidy school uniforms, stepped into the school gate with brisk steps, and began a happy and intense study life. In the classroom, the sound of books is loud and the singing is pleasant; On the playground, there are correctional images of teachers and students exercising; On the walls, there are works of art full of childlike innocence; On the side of the corridor, there are green trees, small ponds and weeping willows. Yes!

Campus, how beautiful you are, how holy you are, how worthy of us to love, miss you, and dress you up!