Please write more poems and help write a poem

The best of love poetry. Countless loves, boundless loves, turned into countless words, and finally became countless love poems.

The poem represents everything.

Probably not very well written. I answered a question earlier that I couldn't think of at the time, but now I've found inspiration: from top to bottom, from east to west, everything is painted seamlessly, and they don't dare to neglect it at all.

Don't ask me who they are, you'll know when you read it. (I don't think I wrote this sentence well) every place is like a soft line.

In the wonderful world of a child, the bed in the bedroom will become a fearless ship in the middle of the night, carrying the brave little sailor to the vast and unknown world;

Books that turn the world upside down.

A smell of earth.

The leaves on which dreams are written are weathered.

Butterflies in color fly into the distance.

The alternation of night and day is also so magical, as if everything has been enchanted by time, unpredictable, mysterious and fascinating......

The innocent and simple laughter lingered in the ears.

Wanruo pursued in her eyes yesterday.

If I can pick up one of the yellowing leaves, I think I'll be happy.

Actually, that doesn't prove anything, it's just that I want to have a song that grows up.

The night is cloudy, or I can write words in the stars, I just wish I could turn back time into a river.

Childhood is a poem.

The poem is full of happiness in our hearts.

Childhood is a song.

It's full of our happy notes.

Childhood is a painting.

It was full of our happy footprints.

In short, childhood is colorful.

Childhood, so beautiful! So be it, concise! Don't be so polite.

Lying mountain boiled in autumn

Liuyun Shu rolls with the wind, and Qianmo hugs the farmhouse.

On the tea Qingyan with leisure, there is a fragrant red sleeve shirt.

The clouds are rolling up, up and down the mountain.

Taste tea and enjoy the scenery, and take a break in your busyness.

I have nothing to do to climb the mountain, and I have nothing to do to drink tea.

Look up at the clouds and look down at the city.

In the afternoon of hoeing day, sweat drops into the soil.