C834

The night wind is pitiful and dazzles through the corridor. When the snow colored kimono rides on the moonlight, it seems that the red plum painted on the paper gate becomes bright, so the red plum becomes bright under the caress of the moon.

The patriarch of the clan and the chairman of the board of directors were all around him.

But I don't know why it's so crowded and crowded that you can see the fresh color of snow in the crowd of people like mountains.

The ice and snow youth, who stood in the crowd and was favored by Yuehua, waved his hand, and they left immediately.

He gently opened the door, and all the decorations inside were his favorite style.

Clean and neat, cold plum fragrance is lingering.

However, wood wood or as usual lying in the hospital bed dizzy.

He went to the bed, bent down and tied a chain around her neck. The star of hope on the pendant was shining with pure moonlight.

He gazed at the peach face quietly for a long time, and finally decided to pull out the reluctant eyes.

The autumn wind outside the window, blowing like a good desolation, blowing, leaves have been flying.

Not far away was the sea, and in the ebb and flow of the tide, several sailboats were passing through the edge.

He felt a sudden dizziness.

He could not help coughing, but he held back, for she was sleeping soundly.

He controlled himself, held the brush, dipped in ink, and wrote on the rice paper -

Rouge comb

the wind is the comb of leaves

from new green comb to golden

the boat is the comb of the waves

the front of the boat is flat and the stern is the wave

and who is the rouge in my palm.

Let me draw and describe from morning to night

Is that you?

Let me from the previous life to this life, hope to be crazy, wait for Chi.

But when the wind blows, the flowers wither and the leaves fall. I once promised you that I would lend you a pair of wings again

but now I can't find your footprints again

tonight, the night is bleak

and let me use my hand as your comb r>

make up your face slowly

suddenly, the wind comes.

I think of some promises that we didn't fulfill together and some sad things

remember the days before

five year old me and three-year-old you

hand in hand, skilfully folding clothes in running

I still remember the days before

five year old me and three-year-old you

stood under the eight fold cherry tree, surrounded by brilliant red

I still remember the days before

the five-year-old me and the three-year-old you

everything was still so beautiful

just the stars in the night sky, but gradually diluted in the tears

Dazzle in the heart of a burst of pain, because she was by his side, so he wrote many poems for her, but unfortunately, who should these poems be left to see? no one.

He kneaded the rice paper into a ball and discarded it in the wind. Push the door and start the journey.

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PS: This is the third gorgeous poem. However, I don't think it is as good as that of Shuluo. I'm crazy. Let me change it.

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