Write a poem of your own creation on the subject of motherhood

Mother. You go silently with tears in your eyes.

It's like your silent life.

It's a little different than when you croak.

Maybe you don't know if it's a curse or a blessing that awaits you.

Maybe you know everything when you leave.

I'll wipe your eyelids with my hand so that you can walk away with confidence.

I wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes with my hand and said I know everything.

Fifty-three years is not easy.

A spicy and bitter story written by sweat and tears.

I was teary-eyed and miserable.

Your father, who didn't do evil but had a reputation as a bully, made you who you were.

As soon as he was born, he was forced to leave his mother's milk.

Since childhood, he has been accustomed to swallowing his anger and working hard.

Carry your child on your back and wait to be fed on your back to clear the wasteland on the hillside and farm the land.

The fireworks have made your face black and swarthy, and your face is full of ravines.

A woman props up a boat with a ploughshare in a waist-deep paddy field.

The mud from the tail of the bull sculpts you into a statue.

Carrying a large bundle of firewood, you trembled towards the market.

With your only old hen in your arms, you hobbled towards the market.

With the borrowed millet on your back, you staggered towards the school.

Pinching your sweaty horn ticket, you hurried towards the school.

For the sake of going to school, you ran for your children, and you suffered a lot of white eyes.

The sensible child is determined to hang his bag high.

So angry that you beat up a child who had never beaten before.

You vomited so much that you didn't eat, drink, or breathe for three days and three nights.

In the sound of firecrackers, your patch is still the same.

Seeing your child jumping in new clothes makes you smile so sweetly.

You don't get tired of eating the fairy mud at the root of the festival.

The corn paste old pumpkin supports the child's belly round.

How many times did I faint and say that I hadn't finished washing it.

To do more work than people, always grab dirty work and work tired.

Never care about trivial matters when interacting with people.

You are such an ordinary ordinary person.

You left us silently.

The procession that saw off the day of departure dragged on the elders.

Everyone cried with red eyes and said that you are a good person.

Everyone moved a stone and burned a few strings of paper money.

I want you to live happily in that world.

You don't have to keep your eyes wide open, looking up and down, looking left and right.

There is no need to worry about the northeast and southwest with tears.

Close your eyes and enjoy your blessings in peace.

I pick up hibiscus with water, and love lotus is lush and dewy.

The mother dried plain brocade cotton clothes, and the relatives gathered for a long time to talk and smile.

Ma Hui is as graceful as a mountain.

Mom is generous, and the spring breeze is full of gardens.

I would like to follow the example of a mother.

Love is eternal and day by day.

You are happy and happy.

1, "Mother".

When the flowers bloom, you are like a burst of flowers, surrounded me; In the rainy season, you are like a small umbrella, let the wind and rain do nothing to me;

On the day of falling leaves, you are like a single garment, driving away desolation for me;

In the moment of snowfall, you are like a torch, warming my body and illuminating my front;

Spring goes to autumn, cold comes to summer, for me, how many vicissitudes you have experienced, it is you who have given me life, given me strength, and let me see the future.

2, "Mother's Love".

The mountains are not as high as the love of a mother; The sea is not as deep as a mother's love; Heaven, without the love of a mother is vast;

earth, without the love of a mother;

The sun is not warm without a mother's love; The clouds are white without a mother's love;

Flowers, splendid without a mother's love;

Mother's love is the cloud in the sky, always let the scorching sun;

Mother's love is like the spring wind, she gently blows, the earth will be green.

4, "Mom".

Who dresses us when we're cold?

Who cooks for us when we're hungry?

and who encourages us when we fail;

Rejoice in us when we succeed?

She's not a robot; It's not a computer, she's my mom.

Mom is not St. Mary, nor Jesus, nor God, but she is as gentle and kind as St. Mary, as loving as Jesus, and as wise as God.

Yes! Mommy is great!

5, "My Mother".

Mother, like the winter sun, encourages me, comforts me, and warms my heart when I encounter setbacks.

Mother, Mother is like a light in the night, when I am lost, she will guide me, illuminate me, and walk towards the light.

Mother, mother is like the bright moon in the autumn night, when I am lonely and helpless, she will accompany me, support me, and give me confidence.

Mother, she is busy for me all day long, tirelessly, without regrets.

It's so well written! It's just not my child's method.

The poem is beautiful and vividly writes about the greatness of mother's love.

Mom's love.

Warm the heart.

Like a brilliant cloud.

Brought the warmest love.

Mom's love. Like colorful ribbons.

Tie the hearts of your children.

Come home often.

Eating a meal cooked by my mother.

Bathe in the sea of motherly love.

Mom was overjoyed to see it.

It's like the sunset sending a glow.

Mother's love, the greatest love in the world, mother's love, gives birth to children to become talents, mother's love, selfless love, forever and forever unforgettable,

Mother, you are Yulu.

You are the Great Sun. Shine on the earth.

Mother, Mother, if you are rain and dew, I am a flower.

If you are the sun, I am the earth.

Ancient Style: Mother's Ballad.

Hu Bingyan] is innocent and splendid, and the plain dress is clean and flawless.

The red line is tied to the couple, and the scenery is beautiful to the in-law's house.

Reserved and virtuous, the neighbor is good, and ten people have seen ten people and praised them.

Raise the case and live together, respect and love each other.

The god-given elves fell to the ground, and they did not leave to raise a baby for a while.

The mother's blood drips with hope, and wiping the feces will not annoy the urine.

The stove in winter and the palm fan in summer are always taken care of.

As soon as there is a disaster and runs to the hospital, I can't let go of my impatience.

Needlework and fine sewing of the body, clean and clean clothes.

The morning bears the cold dew and the evening bears the twilight, and the pick-up and drop-off has been tenacious for several years.

Work tirelessly and diligently, no regrets only for the family.

In the summer, he did farm work in the hot sun, and in winter, he spun cotton yarn in the dim light.

Day after day, year after year, cowardly Ziyan has grown up.

The figure is ricketic and staggering, and the blue frost is covered with hair.

The cold door is reclining and colorless, and there is a little sadness on the cheeks.

The courtyard is deep and cold, and the six gods have no main body.

The big house is guarded alone, who will care about the mother?

Like snow, the moonlight infected their green silk.

Like a bow, the scythe fixed their waists.

If you can't catch the wind.

Be sure to remember.

On the blade of time live you and my mother.

Aunty is her man?