When the broken dream is broken, the withered flower sends away the sadness and brings the last flower to keep the memory.

-inscription

In my memory, there is a piece of sky-blue paper with your blessing on it, which is a testimony of our friendship. It represents a kind of innocence and a kind of joy. From sunrise to sunset, from bloom to the falling of flowers, we are looking for the tranquility in a unique season, the fragrance among flowers and the surging waves. That friendship never stops, even if it is mixed with sadness, we are not alone, because the flowers of friendship are always in full bloom. Whenever you are around, it is a kind of happiness!

However, when I found happiness, I was no longer lonely, but far away. The stars are no longer shining, the sun is no longer dazzling, and everything becomes cold and deep. At that moment, the tears of parting kept flowing, silently hiding in the corner and crying, looking at the happiness far away, I began to slowly recall once:

Looking back at the melody of spring, we can feel the gentle breeze and intoxicating floral fragrance. Looking back at the love in summer, we feel that the hot sun in the sky is steaming, but the air is filled with drunkenness; Looking back on autumn fairy tales, we will always engrave that touch of gold in our hearts; Looking back at the crystal clear and clean winter, we beat the snow-white enough paper together, as if singing rhythmically; look back ...

There are too many indelible memories, which will always be treasured in my heart, and I will always remember that pure happiness.

We have been grieving for our separation. Even if that flower dies, it won't bloom again next year. I just want to use the last flower to keep the memory of that year. I just want to bless you silently: "May you be stronger and more confident!" " "

That separation shattered the dream that was about to be completed. When the flower withered, it took away all the troubles, leaving only a heart flower growing and blooming. I want to preserve the past forever, so that this flower can exist. May the tree of friendship be evergreen, and may you receive the blessing of that heart full of flowers! That flower will bloom forever. ...

Composition, entitled "Flower of Motherly Love", 600 words. Let me say a few famous words to you first: mom! You are a lotus leaf, I am a red lotus, and the raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is the shade under my unobstructed sky? Bing Xin, the only unpolluted love in the world, is that there is a most beautiful voice in the world of maternal love, and that is the call of mother (Dante). The motto describing maternal love is 1 Gonchard's famous saying: maternal love never dries up.

This shows that maternal love is very great and will always be with us.

Lao She said: Losing a loving mother is like putting a flower in a bottle. Although there is still color and fragrance, it has lost its roots.

I think this sentence shows that loving mother is as important to a person as roots are to flowers.

All the glory and pride in the world come from mothers.

(Gorky) Motherly love is a huge flame.

(romain rolland) There is one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and that is the mother's call.

(Dante) A loving mother's arm is made of love. How can a child not be sweet when sleeping in it? (Hugo) The sweetest word that seven people can say on their lips is mom, and the best call is "mom".

(Ji Bolun) Motherly love is the greatest power in the world.

When you succeed, everyone is your friend.

But only mother-she is a partner in failure.

(Zheng Zhenduo) 10 How intense, selfish and fanatical maternal love is that it occupies our whole mind.

(Duncan) 1 1 How similar mothers all over the world are! Their hearts are always the same.

Every mother has a very pure heart.

(Whitman) 12 All the glory and pride in the world come from mothers.

(Gorky) 13 One of the most beautiful things in life is maternal love, which is selfless love, and morality is dwarfed by it.

(Japan) 14 Mom, where you are, it is the happiest place (UK) 15 Motherly love is the greatest force in the world (Mill) 16 Everything else in the world is fake and empty, and only the mother is real, eternal and immortal.

(India) 17 in memory of mother! Dearest lover, you are all my happiness and friendship.

(France) 18 how intense, selfish and fanatical maternal love is, it occupies our whole mind (Duncan) 19 In the child's mouth and heart, the mother is God.

(Britain) 20 Motherly love is the most beautiful among human emotions, because it is not mixed with the heart of fate (France) 2 1 Women are fragile, but mothers are strong (France) 22 Without the help of selfless maternal love, children's hearts will be a desert.

(British) Motherly love is the eternal theme of mankind.

We give it too many interpretations and too many connotations.

There is no soul-stirring historical epic, no shocking reversal of stormy waves, and a mother's love is like a spring rain, a clear song, which moistens things silently and long.

Yu, a contemporary essayist, wrote in an article: "The starting point of all travelers is always to say goodbye to their mothers ... Their destination is the aging ... elderly people in their twilight years. It is impossible to cry for their mothers without moving people, and they cannot but cry for their return and wander."

"I am in my mother's arms, my mother is in the boat, and the boat is in the moonlight sea.

"The light is filled with harsh breath, which is the love my mother gave me.

When the lost eyes are innocent, the mother's care is the most memorable.

The burden of knowledge is so heavy, in the middle of the night, it is my mother's shadow that accompanies me to study.

Maternal love is crimson, a crimson sea.

Although it surges occasionally, it is too deep love.

When you are calm, everything will become easy. When you touch the sea, you will deeply feel a kind of boiling slurry, which is warm all the time.

With maternal love, mankind will move from desolation to the prosperity of civilization; With maternal love, society moves from indifference and severity to peace and well-being; With maternal love, we move from melancholy to singing, from stupidity to wisdom; With maternal love, there will be the beginning of life, the continuation of history, the germination of reason and the return of human nature.

"Sneak into the night with the wind and moisten things silently.

The trickle of maternal love moistens our life like a drizzle. When we walk into the school, pick up a pen and record the notes of love, maternal love is the truest love.

Motherly love is the ultimate destination of wanderers and a clear spring that nourishes children's hearts. With the children sipping and sipping, it is endless. Therefore, the lingering maternal love is integrated into the children's laughter and tears.

Motherly love is like an idyll, far away and pure, elegant and light; Motherly love is a landscape painting. Wash away the lead carving and leave it fresh and natural. Motherly love is like a affectionate song, melodious and melodious, singing softly; Motherly love is a warm wind, which blows away the snow and brings infinite spring.

Motherly love is a lifetime of laughter and a wandering yearning. Motherly love is the concern and anxiety of children before their sickbed. Motherly love is the ardent expectation of their children's growth.

When I think of my mother, my depression will turn into high emotions; When I think of my mother, wasting time will become great pride; When I think of my mother, the wandering wanderer will sprout the desire to go home; Thinking of my mother, my wandering heart found a home.

Time is like water, and the years are fleeting. How many memories disappear like water, but we have never changed our thoughts of our mother.

The warbler goes to swallow, and the spring goes. Her face is getting older and her hair is as white as snow.

The child is growing up day by day, but the mother is aging day by day.

When the children see the white-haired mother in the high hall, they will jump into her arms and shed tears! Motherly love is also the eternal theme of literature and music.

Literati write articles on the topic of maternal love, moistening things silently; The musicians are mainly maternal love, and the tunes they play are soft and beautiful, with a long aftertaste.

The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward children.

Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.

But how much love has an inch of grass, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. "

Meng Jiao, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, experienced ups and downs and was down and out, but his mother's smile always lingered in his mind.

Knowing his mother's future, he couldn't hide the smile on his face, couldn't restrain the joy in his heart, shook off the tired wind and frost on the top of his clothes, brushed away the dust accumulated in his heart, and took his wife and children to meet his mother outside Liyang City.

Green grass, fragrant flowers, white clouds and clear rivers are filled with endless thoughts of my son.

Mother and son are dependent on each other, and tears are in their eyes. Holding mother's warm hand, looking at her old face, I can't help but burst into tears and began to write poems. ...

There are more than 600 words in the composition "Le Fu Hua Xiang" in the first day of junior high school. It does not mean forgetting, but it has become an eternal memory, and it has settled at the bottom of the lake with the vortex of time.

When someone touches it gently, it will return to the lake with the whirlpool, and it will become more crystal-clear and beautiful after being baptized by the lake.

I met her in a sweet-scented osmanthus season. We met and became attached under the osmanthus tree.

She is two grades taller than me, obviously older than me, but not as tall as me, and her waist will fall when pushed.

Black hair is scattered on the shoulders, and thick bangs cover your eyes from time to time. Through the gap, you can see the sparkling water in her eyes.

She has always taken care of me like a big sister. She taught me to ride a bike and wash vegetables. She taught me articles that I didn't understand, and also taught me to smell the flowers under the osmanthus tree.

Although she didn't study well, she racked her brains to explain the problem to me.

So we live day after day.

Until one day, when we were doing our homework together as usual, she suddenly asked me: I looked at her and smiled mischievously: she didn't say anything, and continued to bury herself in her homework, thinking about what was precious in her homework.

One morning a few days later, grandma gave me a conch and said, "Your friend came this morning. She said she would go to Shenzhen to study, and she may not come back in the future. Let me give you this.

"I dazed, mechanically took the conch. I suddenly remembered the question she had asked me before. "Hey, what will you do if I leave one day? ""If you leave, I will forget you.

"I desperately rushed into the room and erased the two' forever' we wrote on the wall together. I didn't stop until everything was blurred.

I put the conch in my ear and listened to the whispers of the sea. I seem to smell the bitterness of the sea breeze, mixed with the fragrance of osmanthus.

In the next few days, months and years, I went to school, went home, ate, read, did my homework and slept, as usual.

I only occasionally pass by the osmanthus trees on the street and smell the fragrance of osmanthus, but I will still think of her.

All the past events I thought I had forgotten turned into a stream of shareholders and went straight to my eyes, leaving a trail on my face, boiling hot.

The wind remembers the fragrance of flowers. The wind remembers the fragrance of flowers. Unknown wildflowers give off a faint fragrance and float into the air.

A little wind blew, and I remembered the refreshing fragrance of flowers.

Just below my house, there lived an old man. He had a good relationship with my father, so I knew him very well.

He is kind and cheerful all day, but his legs and feet are inconvenient and he walks with a limp.

I remember that he sent food to our family every once in a while, saying that it was brought from his hometown and fresher than in the market.

Moreover, it must be very hard for him to go upstairs every time, because his face is always red every time he opens the door. Those "horizontal ditches" are like a steamed shrimp, panting and looking very tired.

But he is still very cheerful, and his black cheeks are really not good-looking.

Flowers are nameless and silent. The wind passed quietly, and the flowers flowed over the sky gently, but the unique fragrance was remembered by the wind and spread to distant fields ... What impressed me deeply was that summer.

I accidentally told him that it was a little dark at school in the morning and it was terrible to walk in the alley. If only there were lights.

He seems to remember it.

A few days later, he moved a ladder from nowhere and struggled to the wall of the alley, sweating profusely and his lips were white, and he staggered step by step.

I advised him to forget it, but he said cheerfully, "Nothing, it's nothing!" " He climbed the stairs carefully, and I held it below. He seems to be working harder, and sweat as big as a bean slips across his cheeks.

He took a small lamp and made something like a wire above the wall.

I don't know how long it took him to recover. His face seemed pale, his breath seemed restless, his legs seemed stiff, and he said happily that he was not tired, but obviously not! When I walked under this lamp again, it had been several years, and the lamp still lit up the light for the darkness, and he, I heard, moved back to his hometown a few years ago, and later he seemed to have passed away.

It suddenly dawned on me that maybe he had gone, embedded in the night sky, beside the bright moon, with the stars. Anyway, he has been written into my memoirs of life.

...

The wind remembers that it is the season when osmanthus flowers are in full bloom.

At this time of year, there is always a faint sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance floating in our community.

Osmanthus fragrans is a small flower. There are many yellow flowers hidden in the trees shaded by green leaves.

Every four petals are a small flower, just like a cute little doll.

They are beautiful faces set off by green leaves, which makes people feel how lovely and beautiful the yellow spot in the middle of the leaves is.

There are forty or fifty osmanthus trees in our community, which have a faint taste. As soon as the wind blows, the fragrance comes to my face and makes people feel comfortable.

There are three osmanthus trees in front of our unit. I often pinch them with my hands, pick a small flower and smell it with my nose, and the feeling of happiness suddenly bursts out.

This sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance is not to mention thyme. As long as you like sweet-scented osmanthus, no one is not intoxicated with the fragrance of flowers.

At night, it was dark. I came back from the small square and saw some trees in front of my house. There are many yellow luminous spots in the middle. What is this? Yes, it is osmanthus. These little yellow spots attract endless attention at night, because osmanthus looks so beautiful at night.

Every night when I return to my home, I will slowly stop and stare at the little yellow spot.

They become rhubarb spots in my eyes, and the evening wind blows gently. These yellow dots are shaking in my eyes, just like saying to me, "Go home, little friend, and I will be more beautiful tomorrow morning!" " "Osmanthus fragrans also has many functions. Osmanthus fragrans can be used to decoct soup, make tea and soak wine for oral administration, which can make people resolve phlegm and dissipate blood stasis, and even cure headache and fever! It can also work on food.

Sweet-scented osmanthus with white sugar can be made into sweet-scented osmanthus sugar, and Osmanthus Jelly can add sweet-scented osmanthus sugar when frying rice cakes.

In addition, osmanthus can also be made into Osmanthus Jelly, which is refreshing and delicious.

Although there are many flowers I like to see and see, osmanthus is my favorite flower.

Although osmanthus is so small, it is the most beautiful in my heart!

You have your own fragrant composition of 600 words. Breeze blowing through the river will blow green water plants; When the gentle wind sweeps the garden, it blows red flowers; When the breeze brushed my cheeks, penetrated into my heart, turned into a wisp of fragrance, opened the window that had been dusty for a long time, and a meaningful breeze flooded into my heart.

Before, I always thought reading was a very boring thing.

Not only is it a waste of time, but it is not easy to remember.

If you are not careful, your eyes will be clouded.

In my heart, there has never been a trace of book fragrance.

Looking up at the clouds in the sky and the flowers blooming in front of the court, I gradually felt the charm of literature as I grew older.

On TV, I appreciate the eloquent and charming speeches of writers; In Chinese class, the description of the teacher's literature and art makes me envy; When chatting, my friend Kan Kan made me feel ashamed.

In the Herb Garden of literature, the grass is flourishing and the warblers are flying everywhere, but in my heart, there are flowers full of books, which are in bud.

Walking into mosquitoes full of ink fragrance, the fine products are fragrant.

Lament Li Bai's heroic "Long Wind and Waves, and set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea"; Appreciate the magnificence of Du Fu's "Reaching the Peak, the other mountains all appear dwarfs under the sky.". ; I lament Li Qingzhao's melancholy thought of "I'm afraid I can't move, but I'll build my boat".

The fragrance was overflowing, and I heard Paul's fearless singing in the face of difficulties and read the sadness of Sister Lin's sad burial of flowers. I understand Zhuge Liang's loyalty: he died a fair death ... They sang the most beautiful music in the world, nourishing me, touching me and influencing me.

Now, the flowers are overflowing, the books are overflowing, and the green fragrance has penetrated into my heart.

Words are like a hundred flowers garden, where I can enjoy the blue sky and white clouds; I can enjoy the fragrance of knowledge by slapping my nose.

Literature is like a landscape painting. I feel as if I were in a high mountain and flowing water, listening to the birds singing and tasting the trickling solo.

Reading literature makes me feel like fragrant tea, and tea is still fragrant.

Wandering in the literary palace full of ink and talking with celebrities at all times and all over the world have made my knowledge more profound, my taste more noble and my thoughts more mature.

May the fragrance of this ink accompany me to grow up all the way, forever.

If life is just an unrepeatable flower season, then a beating heart is a spring flower that never dies.

In early spring and February, it is warm and cold at first sight, the goose yellow is faint, and the new green blooms sadly, indicating the vitality of life and being the youth like the rising sun; In the spring of March, apricot blossom and spring rain season, pink and green, soft wind and rain, natural forces flying, is a middle-aged like fire; In late spring and April, the wheat straw withered, the distant mountains were secluded and the twilight was brilliant. This is the evening of yat sen villa.

Since the reincarnation geometry is evergreen all the year round, the journey of life will be accompanied by flowers all the way.

Two withered flowers in the world.

"Flowers are getting better and better, and shallow grass can have no horseshoes." In the world, small poems are full of vitality.

But I feel that people are as light as flowers, and I am humiliated and forgotten; "The lotus leaves in the sky are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors." A little poem in the world grows like fire, with pride in the chest and moonlight in seven points; "West wind roller blinds, people are thinner than yellow flowers." On earth, a poem is like a flower but not a flower. Without perishable yellow flowers in your hand, you can see through the vicissitudes of life, secretly light a solitary lamp and stumble past.

This time, what a sad sentence? "Like a spring breeze, the petals of ten thousand pear trees are blown open at night". On earth, the poem captures the whiteness and vastness of winter with strange feelings and wonders, and pays attention to the grandeur and romance with the eyes of the soul ... The beautiful flowers in the world are dying, and I smell the flowers all the way.

Three warblers are worried about butterflies and tired, and the silence is thin.

What kind of disappointment will Qiu Yin's Bai Haitang waste at night? What kind of sad feelings will the daisy beside the small book write? Drunk and lying on the bluestone, the red fragrance is scattered. For whom does the fragrance of peony cover up many troubles? The rose flew away and it was a little sad. How do you say that "the blank of a pure land covers up the romantic flow"? Singing softly, singing softly, the east wind gradually rises, making Du Fu cry all over the floor with blood, but she left an aria unchanged for thousands of years! All the flowers are gone, and the nobility of peony is still quietly deducing a period of helplessness.

Beautiful flowers shine on the water, weak willows help the wind, and empty valleys and orchids bury the fragrant hills at the end of the sky ... not a compliment to flowers, but a sigh to them! The sweet soul disappears, the empty boudoir only shadows, the beauty withers, and the wanderer cries the autumn wind.

If the west wind is bleak and can't afford to roll up the half-curtain fragrance fog, how can we find fragrance all the way? I had to let the melancholy goose yellow climb Man Chun and peek at the girl of my dreams.

Four people sit in front of the window, bathed in half a meter of sunshine at a 45-degree angle.

The old ivy climbed the lonely wall, and the awakened new green gradually became sleepy and lazy.

The poplar on the left has a scarecrow, and the rose in the right corner is shy.

The old camera in my hand is not as impressive as it used to be, but the little man in the photo still smiles like a flower.

The little girl is holding a blue pocket watch and hanging poplars.

The wind outside the window blew away half a meter of sunshine, and the people behind him only patted it. Looking back, they got it runs in the family, fragrant all the way.

...

A 600-word composition entitled "Looking at Flowers" is urgent! In April, flowers are flying all over the sky, stirring people's hearts.

Yellow and green forsythia flowers, white and purple magnolia flowers, lovely peach blossoms, and even small wildflowers on the roadside all made Liu Shu bow his head in shame.

At this time, a refreshing wind swept through the small garden, and a petal fell on my head with the fragrance of flowers.

I took it down and looked at it: "Yo!" This petal is so small that even the fingernail of the little finger is bigger than it.

Pink, put on the nose, with a faint fragrance.

Another gust of wind blew away this little fan-shaped thing.

With the direction of the wind, it is pink and green. Oh, that's the little guy's home.

The flowers on the tree are early and late. On the same tree, you will never find two identical flowers: some are shy and want to let go, and the green leaves are fresh and lovely; Some have just blossomed, and the pink ball has a small mouth, exposing the stamens. The faint fragrance should be its "giggle" laughter; The really blooming flower, like a slim girl, is blooming her own "dance skirt" to show me her beauty.

There is a red dot at the top of the stamen, which should be nectar! Look, there is a drop of sparkling dew in the middle of the flower, much like that girl's bright eyes! At this time, a white and black butterfly, waving its wings, kissed this beautiful flower; And flowers are also happy to accept the love of butterflies.

At this moment, I want to keep this beautiful butterfly, lovely flowers and delicate fragrance forever! But instead, I can only pray to God that I can enjoy this beautiful cherry blossom next spring.

I remember a flower-scented poem or a 600-word composition. When it is cold, when you enter the room, you will always smell a faint fragrance, which is a pot of daffodils.

In the dim light, there is a soft light, which seems to be mixed with a faint fragrance, hiding grandpa's love for me.

My grandfathers are over seventy years old, but they are always busy and playing with some flowers.

Because he likes daffodils, at the beginning of the new year, grandpa began to water the flowers.

He first took out daffodil seedlings in a big wooden basin and carefully soaped them. None of the daffodils fell. Grandpa carefully wiped them, let them rest for a while, and then carefully washed the soap off the flowers.

He cleaned it carefully, even the small cracks in the leaves.

Grandpa repeats this work carefully every year, like making a beautiful work of art, without exception.

I often ask disapprovingly, "Grandpa, this washing method is too slow. Just soak it in water.

At this time, grandpa always smiled and said to me, "This washing method will produce more flowers, and it will be more fragrant than flowers soaked in water only."

"This is not just to make the flowers more fragrant, it contains his expectation and love for life! In a blink of an eye, I am already in the second day of junior high school, my study is getting worse and worse, and my time with my grandfather is getting less and less. Every year, the pot of daffodils carefully cultivated by my grandfather is always placed in the corner of my desk.

In the first month of that year, I was writing at my desk. The fragrance of daffodils seeped into my heart, and the blooming white flowers jumped into my eyes. The softest place in my heart was touched at once, and I quickly dialed a phone call. Grandpa's voice soon came from the other end of the phone.

The voice is more surprised and old.

Grandpa has been asking me if the flowers are fragrant, how is my study recently, and whether I am tired of learning. I have said a lot.

Ear, grandpa's cordial greetings, eyes, daffodils goose yellow core, nose, faint fragrance, faintly sour nose ... Maybe you will say that the sun, the moon and the stars have changed, not to mention in this ever-changing world.

But I feel that some people have some feelings that will never change, like flowers and affection.

...

I respect this tree and feel the increasing pressure on me. I step up my pace every day.

Walking between campus and home in a hurry, my eyes are always staring straight at the road ahead, and I can only see a few people who are in a hurry like me occasionally.

If it hadn't rained, I'm afraid I would have been in a hurry and didn't notice it at all.

The fine rain made the sky hazy and the dark clouds never dispersed. A gloomy day is a bit like my mood at this time.

I was walking mechanically on my way home when suddenly my umbrella tripped over something. I seldom look up. It turns out to be a bunch of branches.

I looked at the tree, but I couldn't move for a long time, because I couldn't help looking carefully. That is really a rare weak camphor tree.

Although the trees planted by the roadside are not particularly strong, this one is too thin. Even the thickest trunk can only be measured by one hand. The tender appearance has mottled bark that has experienced vicissitudes, and the branches are thinner, but there are many branches.

I think, maybe it is these countless twigs that drain the essence of the mother.

Looking up again, I was shocked. There are dense green leaves on such a weak body. After being washed by rain, it stands proudly, green and beautiful, like pure emeralds. I touched them and became very strong.

It is hard for me to imagine that such a thin tree will grow such beautiful and tough leaves. How much nutrition it has to absorb, how much wind and rain it has experienced, and how much effort it has to pay! Facts have proved that the weakest tree can also grow extremely beautiful and strong leaves.

I was moved by the tree, and I was ashamed of my inner darkness.

The young trees are poor, but they are not satisfied with this, so they try their best to absorb nutrients, grow hard and present their own beautiful side.

Maybe the firmness of the trunk is predestined, then the beauty of the leaves will come true, because branches and leaves are the pride of the tree.

Just like life, it will always give you such shortcomings. Please don't be sad, we still have a lot to make up for.

Family background is not high, self-cultivation makes the soul sublimate and the soul noble; The appearance is not outstanding, always treat people sincerely and make the mind beautiful; Parents have little power, respect each other as guests, take care of each other and enjoy family happiness.

Just like a tree, although the branches are small, it is also a shocking beauty to strive to grow lush leaves! I have long been far away from that tree, but my thoughts have not been recovered, but I am by the tree, paying tribute to it!

Please indicate the source? What is intoxicating is the 600-word composition of floral fragrance.