I divide the spring into two, half of the bag, half decorate poetic

The style of April is in a fragrant fragrance, and a touch of affection lives in the eyes. The rhyme of the wind, listening to flowers and flowers, watching clouds and clouds. The wind rises in April, soft, wakes up the flowers, blows off the peach blossom rain, collects a flavor of petals, holds a flower letter, and continues a paper acacia. When the flowers fall into the dust, write a paper love poem Give you. I want to divide the spring into two, half of the bag, half of the poetry, and in the slow return of spring, do n’t send a rose red, just to meet you.

A rain drifted in April, a rain intertwined with thoughts, a wet memory, and a rain injured in the tossing side of the rain. Let's come to you? A pair of peach blossoms, a curtain of smoke rain dreams. The spring breeze reads the letter, and the heart is relieved. April all the way around the flower, April was full of stamens, and the rain curtain was intertwined in April. When I stepped back in April, there was a fragrant incense, I carefully collected a flower letter to give you a distant you.

The spring breeze rose, and the apricot flowers, peach blossoms, and pear blossoms were open for the second time. A handful of peach blossoms, a paper peach blossom poem, splashing ink in the pen, drunk lying in the willow flowers, making an appointment for a breeze, gathered a heart, and planting a short sentence in the wind, when the wind rises, the flowers fall. That crazy heart is in the flower, just waiting for you to read quietly. A poem will be old, and the old one is covered with a layer of soil. I stroked the old text, and I was like your first opinion yesterday. Duoduo has affection for years, a poem, a word, thinking of it in his heart is full of joy.

A rain of rain, in the end of the memory, you stay in your heart not far away. Whenever you think of, every time you think of it, you will ripple in your heart. Folding a spring breeze and blowing willow silk, a handful of peach blossoms, researching ink boiled characters, stamping the thoughts of the journey in the spring, and the poem of a tassel in the middle of the water. If the flowers are flying, I will write down in the flavor of the petals and not to forget my original intention, without changing my original intention. The peach blossoms fall, the rain is flying, the acacia tears, how sad it is scattered. Write the ink, handwritten my heart, and write.

I retired in April, and I was looking for you in a touch of flowers, in April, Yu Xiang. I wrote you in a spring feelings. In April, the flowers were pretty, and I thought about it in the faint moon. The wind was quiet and the rain was quiet. The branches of peach red demon, catkins sway, stop in spring shadows, looking at you far away. In the feast of spring, in order to meet you, I let the peach red climb your window sill, wait for the spring breeze to brush and the floral aroma around, that spring rain will bring your news. If all the flowering periods are dispersed, the blossoms I collection fall in your hair, stop in my poems, and gentle in your eyebrows.

In April, the rain gradually faded. Before the rain has not faded, I collect a bowl of rain dew, and there is a fragrance in the flowering period. I write my heart and wait for you to read. The spring breeze is warm, warm in the eyebrows, warming in my heart. The spring breeze brushed, and the willow branches were awakened, and the stamens were blown away. The spring breeze was fragrant, the flowers were in the buds, and when the wind blows, they fluttered, regardless of whether they care, and open, the most beautiful scrolls in spring are in the floral fragrance.

In spring, the wind becomes soft, walk along the roadside, and look at the tender, green grass, which is a breeze of ten miles of spring breeze. The flowers are made, the spring breeze is cited, and the poetry of the spring should be good in spring. If you are present, invite the romance of spring, and to meet you. I paint a palm fate, renewing the fate in the line of the palm, and the best time in spring, waiting for you to be in my poems.

In April, the door was covered, the flowers in spring gradually retreated, and the rose climbed climbing, and occasionally swaying in the wind. In April, the flowers were fragrant. In April, the flowers floated in the city. The flowers that go far away are left in the late spring, leaving a romance script at the end of spring, waiting for you to renew the contract. The rain in May quietly fell, and the dripping, ticking, strolling in the rain, the light rain had just fired a wet clothes, just wet the hair, liked this thick vanilla flavor, a flower did not disappear, a touch of flower aroma, from four from four From the month to May, the oil paper umbrella is supported. The rose climbing outside the umbrella is a fate under the umbrella, which is just right.

The birds outside the window woke up in the summer, Liu Si swayed, swaying my dream, there was a floral incense around the dream, there was a whisper in the dream, there was a dream in the dream, and there was a dream in the dream. Perseverance. When some characters are thin, the words in the words also become thin, and only one infatuation does not change its original intention. Farewell to Chun, embrace Xia. In the end of the spring, I wrote poems for you in the incense, splashing ink for you, and copying you in the first blooming rose. Touch the old text, the words are you.

- END -