Modern poems about Teacher s Day are short, Teacher s Day modern poems

1, "Praise the Teacher".The falling chalk ash takes away your fragrance.

The dense red annotations are the most beautiful pictures.

The warmest encouragement in my heart is the little red flower you give.

2, "Teacher's Grace in My Heart".I can't forget your explanation, talk eloquently, eloquently.

I can't forget your questions, interlocking and revealing mysteries.

I can't forget your guidance.

I can't forget your comments, every proverb, every word.

3, "Paper is short and long, and the teacher is unforgettable".Your earnest entrustment is my constant motivation.

Your earnest teachings are the truth that I will never forget.

I can't forget your class, the sound of reading aloud, the sound of the voice.

I can't forget your spirit, tirelessly, obscurely.

Look at the present day, the students are rising.

Looking forward to the future, generations of peach and plum, fruitful.

4, "How fortunate to meet my teacher".There is a kind of person who has been rooted in the pulpit all his life.

There is a kind of love, which is carefully irrigated.

How fortunate to meet my teacher.

Forge ahead and live up to expectations.

5. "Hymns to Teachers".Sometimes, you are like a tireless bee.

Embracing the flowers, brewing love and hope.

Sometimes, you're like a flickering red candle.

Sweating, willingly.

Sometimes, you are like a little spring silkworm.

Will be eagerly awaited and spun into a cocoon.

Sometimes, you're like a dense spring rain.

Falling to the bottom of my heart, moistening my heart.

In life, work and study, we have all seen many classic poems, which are generally full of rich imagination, associations and fantasies. Do you know what makes good poetry? The following is a collection of modern poems about Teacher's Day, which you are welcome to share.

Welcome the festive season and all the joys, and the children of China sprinkle love waves.

Sing the teacher's song with your throat high, and climb the pavilion of quality education.

Brewing wisdom opens the golden lock, and controls science to spread virtue.

Consistent words and deeds, set a role model, and cultivate the style of students in the shed.

Talents are shining brightly, and the pillars are just like full constellations.

Sweat waters new flowers, and Chinese rejuvenation promotes harmony.

September. Golden days.

We were all around the teacher.

Wander in the ocean of knowledge.

September. Harvest day.

Teachers work hard in our hearts.

Harvest the pride of success.

Teacher. You are like a light in the night.

guides us.

Teacher. You are like a red sun in winter.

Warm this for us.

Crystal white hair.

Rickety body.

Rough hands.

Reclamation without complaint.

Exhausted the effort.

Three-foot podium, three-inch tongue, three-inch pen, three thousand peach and plum.

Ten years of people, ten years of wind, ten years of rain, 100,000 pillars.

You're there for us.

Taught us.

Work hard for us.

Let's make our hearts bloom.

Woven into the most beautiful wreath.

It's a warm September.

Dedicated to our beloved teachers.

Engineer of the human soul.

The Buddha told me: As long as you remove the excess wood, you are a Buddha!

Jade encouraged me: As long as you have a pair of dexterous hands, you are jade!

Confucianism comforted me: As long as you repair the residue in your heart, you are Yao Shun.

The teacher taught me: as long as you engrave love on candles, soak it in sweat, and burn it with your heart, you will be glorious for a lifetime!

Let's say recall. Do we remember?

Teacher's Day is also a sweet dream for us.

Let's say it's a weekend. We're still thinking about it.

A greeting card freezes eternity at this time.

Neighborhood mailbox. Spilling a greeting card.

Who's lips poured into the corners of the wind, a smile.

Not far away. We walk in purity.

The murmuring notes outline that sweetness.

A touch of treasure. A sweet smile.

The rope surrounds the souls of those who have never lived in a lifetime.

The soul with. Innocent and sweet dreams.

Let's look back at this moment, we begin to look back.

One by one. Poetry and music.

The teacher is like a gardener, caring for the budding flowers, and the teacher is like a candle, lighting himself and illuminating the students.

Whenever she saw her classmates' homework neatly written, her face was full of smiles.

Day after day, year after year, the footprints of the old man have been imprinted in the corners of her eyes.

Every day, the teacher sleeps at the latest and wakes up the earliest!

If there is no teacher who has worked hard to nurture us, ** will come from generation to generation of talents?

Ah, how great you are, teacher!

Whenever I make a mistake, I see that there is indeed no regret in your tolerant gaze!

Teacher, you've done a great job!

Teacher, water us with hard sweat; With the flower of truth, illuminate us; The pace of time is quietly approaching, and silver hair is crawling up your temples. How many cold nights, you have worked hard to write; How many summer days do you turn stones into gold; If there is magic in the world, I would rather be the chalk in your hand and accompany you through the wind.

How many years of seasonal reincarnation, how many springs, summers, autumns and winters, You are a red candle burning a bright life, Dedicate a lot of blood and sweat, do not seek to leave a name in history, You spread the fire of wisdom with true feelings. Just like the spring silkworm giving a lifetime of loyalty, just like the winter plum singing the song of early spring.

The golden autumn breeze is cool, and the sound of reading aloud is aloud.

The students are pretty, and the teachers are silent.

Red candles shed blood and sweat, and the four modernizations educate elites.

The garden is full of peaches and plums, and the gardener is praised.