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Beiträge: 17

11.01.2020 03:05
Little by littl Antworten

Little by little, let me get close to the sunshine with a slightly grassy fragrance. The autumn fruits are ripe. In the face of the sun, the birds will not remain indifferent. The sky is so far away and so calm. In the end, the sound of the flowers blooming matured, and the yelling of cattle and sheep was stronger. Lie down and be so quiet that only the footsteps of the clocks and the rhythm of the heartbeat, or push the doors and windows open, let the sun fill the room unbridled, and this is our little world. I really can't bear to leave, so many bright days, we come together, now, I began to miss the mood of the birds: soaring in the sun, passing by in the wind and rain. Learn to remember, or capture the tranquility of the manor in the sun, and those artistic moods that are more beautiful than verses. And my words are so warm, or so happy when the wild wild chrysanthemum blooms in the season, the sun is bright and the wind blows gently. From the mountain to the manor, they are blooming happily, waiting for the fragrance of the wild chrysanthemum In the light of the sun, dancing with the wind, blooming the brightest style in life. In a moment, the mountains and the sky are infected with your strength, and the sheep walking on the hillside are lifted by the sudden fragrance. Butterflies and bees came at almost the same time. Whose soft voice added another layer of mystery to the language of this season? The shepherd sits in the middle of the season, and the fragrance of wild chrysanthemum blooms crosses his sense of smell, as well as his vicissitudes of more than fifty years. In the middle of summer, I follow your fragrance, go to a village with my memories of twenty years, and follow my mother to chase one morning after another. When the corn is cooked, exactly how to describe you, sometimes it is really a problem. I stood on the field, holding the whip of the season, knocking on the old dreams on the loess. The weeds were quiet, the flowers still sent out the fragrance, and the wind passed by, and we walked like a cloud on our heads. Find a reason to hide in the heart of the cornfield and peel off a golden fruit with your own hands. It is not important whether there are other fruits around the body laughing secretly. At this time, there are often grateful singing gushing out: how many earthy days these golden elves are feeding! The corn is ripe Marlboro Gold, the sister's dreams are ripe, her round face rises with a happy blush, her old wish, along with this night, drunk in her arms and me, in this text Write down your inner feelings, and also write about these kindness in crops. Apricot flowers are just like corn. You are also an indispensable part of the countryside. When every spring comes, you are in full bloom in every village in the north. The bees swarm, the butterflies fly, and you inadvertently shake off a petal, maybe it was my dream of the previous life, the dream that the previous life missed. It's you? Or is it me? Touching my soft heart, starting from today, I will love myself well, no need for too many reasons. Pang? I ��m not sure if I can also touch my softest nostalgia. The person who shouted Qin Qiang in the spring rain in the north cannot distinguish between raindrops and tears. If I can meet a child, please allow me to tell him not to lose something. Crying, apricot blossom and spring rain are the sweetest memories of the northern village. The wind and the clouds ran in the same direction. Under the dim street lights Marlboro Lights, the mother spent a whole night sewing a warm tenderness for me. Only Xinghua, the elder brother standing in the village, quietly bloomed another kind of emotion. The wind passed the manor The wind seemed to be just a kind of height, but it seemed to have no height. It ran all over the place. When the wind passed the manor, I heard the tree's breathlessness. The house was cleaned by the wind, and the trees and people were cleaned in the same way Cigarettes For Sale. In the four seasons of the manor, the wind was blowing gently. With only a light footstep, it stood from one courtyard to another. Every time it comes, it seems to have experienced thousands of rivers and mountains, experienced hardships, and beauty that nobody knows. May I have enough reasons to put down the agricultural tools in my hand and wait for a gale at the entrance of the village, or to experience firsthand the wind that passed the manor. string? Who else stays on my old manuscript? Haystacks and Dongyang Sometimes I really miss an old time, a long time wandering between Dongyang and Haystacks
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