The rose blossoms, pick up a piece of Qinghuan to look for fragrance

The beauty of the blossoms and the fragrance of the petals have fallen in love at a glance. Gently, gently use both hands to caress each of its branches and leaves petals, how to touch a touch of tenderness when the wind comes that wisp of fragrance to the nostrils. Pink delicate and beautiful, white beautiful, love that blossoming purple and blue, legendary purple represents imprisoned happiness, mystery and dedication; blue represents gentle and perfect, dream beautiful love. In May, roses are in full bloom, which not only smells pleasant and elegant, but also symbolizes a kind of romance.

Sitting against the window, it is rare that the mood is no longer scribbled at this moment, facing the slight wind, put a quiet heart in a period of idle time, drink tea and splash ink, do not pick up half a piece of idle sorrow. Listen, the wind of early summer whispers, as if reading a poem, a poem describing life. Looking at the beauty in full bloom not far away, a poem by Wang Hun, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, suddenly came to mind: "the red glow is rotten with gorilla blood, and the mother Yaochi basks the immortal valerian." The spring breeze in the evening catches the eye, and the brocade color of Shu machine is suspicious. The fragrance of the prince's pavilion touches people, and the flowers have no spirit. Ramie Rosie should be jealous, and the scenery is new year after year. " This is a poem praising the red rose, so we can see that the rose in the poet's heart is even more beautiful than the fairy.

Touch the context of the text, as if smelling a fragrance coming from afar, is the smell of ink or the fragrance of roses, a burst of breeze slowly drifting away from strangers. Sit on the ferry of the world of mortals, go to a happy date with time, and look for one beautiful place after another along the quiet path paved with words, and let the dusty heart wander wantonly in the poetic fragrance. If at this moment, the thoughts will be woven into a red ribbon, gently flying strands of love, then it must be the expression of the fragrance of flowers in the wind is also a loving confession of missing.

Yes, I am still here, with a city full of Qinghuan stubborn love, like flowers fragrant and elegant, like red delicate and beautiful enthusiasm like fire. Persistently, the wind will remember the fragrance of a flower, just as I am blooming in the palm of your hand like a rose in May. When you gently protect the calm of the heart lake, it ripples like water, gently but unforgettable. Silent, will be silent waiting for the shape, accidentally eyebrow center has a trace of cool kiss, I know it is a breeze affectionate record. Many years later, fireworks can be frivolous, but absolutely can not deprive me of the Qing Huan in the article, as well as the overwhelming love, to him, to me, is a rich understanding of life and death, happy with my son; hold hands and the oath of growing old together.

I think, after all, does not belong to that wisp of wandering soul, but more like a grain of dust, floating silently, just to find a touch of incense in the vast sea of people. When Qinghuan walks into the cool heart countless times in the way of words, listening to Zen reading snow is more like a kind of relief, and silence is another way to love yourself. Smiling, in the afternoon of reading and writing poems, I spread the meaning of all the roses, thinking of the man in the distance, and how much I wanted to get closer, get closer, subvert hundreds of Acacia days, and lightly fall on the perfect circle of strokes to embellish the smell of love for the fireworks. If time has not passed, can not see through the bottom of my heart, if when the wind rises, the sun still rises, when the years are not old and the seasons remain the same, please feel an endless love with your heart, because of love, it has nothing to do with anything but one person.

At dusk, the sun which has not been seen for many days shows its head, and the clear day appears in front of us. I crave the taste of sunshine, do not like rain, and do not like it for no reason. Looking for bright and bright, the mind begins to become clearer and clearer. I can't remember how long I have been sitting, but I clearly understand that my heart has been walking in the words, slowly enjoying in the quiet world, the green ignorance of the fragrance of flowers, and the twists and turns of love. Get up, look back at the noise outside, it seems that they have never been at odds with me, only the transparent air and a grain of dust silently with me, not lonely, not lonely, not arrogant and impetuous, smiling calmly.

Smell flowers, looking for incense, a Qinghuan write not scattered eyebrow bend clear and shallow according to incense feelings, how many small print does not follow the parting of flowers, any piece of beautiful summer waiting for petals. Tea, tea, tea Ganchun, endless feelings in the heart, when the setting sun in the west embraced the long-parted clouds, I began to count the residual red one after another in the wind, gorgeous beauty and roses, is dripping, charming, is two kinds of extreme beauty. When the dim yellow and gorgeous combination, but I am between the sky and the earth, there is a kind of emptiness shrouded in the body of the small, gradually smooth the surprise in the heart, the distant sky with the thought of active walking in the boundless time, for a moment, how hypocritical, how to miss, how much I want to reach out and hold a pair of hands firmly forward.

I wanted to meet the day with the charm of the flowers and the breeze all the way through the tunnel of time, but when I gave my heart full of green ink paper, all the beautiful things could not be properly copied in the pure white, and those poetic regrets were in time. Perhaps, wait until one day, some year, meet the rose blossoms again, still the woman who is full of love in her heart, will write down the flowers again, the fragrance of the years. At that time, please let me embrace what I love in my heart with full enthusiasm, writing that time is not old and we are not separated, soul and soul are always lingering.

The rose blossoms and picks up a portion of Qinghuan in search of incense. In May, in the coming end, the day flows gently through the long river of time like water. "at this time, I was sitting in a rattan chair in the breeze, feeling low but happy," she said. This is my time alone. I am tired of being thin and thick, and I am willing to bear it. " Such a comforting and warm sentence, yes, at this time is just a person's time, everything is still going on.

Words: no makeup and silence