backbone
I/never/accidentally discarded/a piece of paper,
Always/keep-keep,
Stacked/one after another/very small/boats,
From the boat/into the sea.
Some were blown into the boat/window by the wind,
Some of them/got wet by the waves/stuck to the bow.
I am/still/not discouraged/piling up every day.
I always hope/have a place/where I can flow/I miss it/go.
Mom, if you/dream/see/a small/white boat,
Don't/surprise/dream for no reason.
This is/your beloved/daughter/tearful/folded,
Wanshui/Qian Shan, ask it/carrying/her love/and sorrow/going home.
1, mom!
The wind and rain in the sky are coming,
The bird hides in its nest;
The storm in my heart is coming,
I only hide in your arms.
2. Date of creator
If in eternal life,
There is only one blissful promise,
I want to sincerely beg:
"I'm in my mother's arms,
Mom's on the boat,
The ship is at sea in the moonlight. "
3. mom!
Put aside your troubles,
Let me fall into your arms,
Only you are the destination of my soul.
Little flower,
I want to look up, too,
Thank you for your love of dates in spring.
However, deep goodwill,
This finally silenced her.
Mom!
Were you that spring?
2. A poem about maternal love Bing Xin's "Mother of the Paper Ship"
Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason. This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home.
Appreciation: The poet used vivid metaphors to convey the feelings of maternal love, and his writing was sincere and touching.
Mother lotus leaf
Mom! You are a lotus leaf, and I am a red lotus. The raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is the shade under my unobstructed sky?
Appreciation: express the author's thoughts and love for his mother, as well as the mother's care and maternal love for her children.
Stars. spring
Mom! Put aside your sadness and let me sink into your arms. Only you are the destination of my soul.
Appreciation: Express the author's attachment and gratitude to his mother.
3. Bing Xin wrote a poem expressing Bing Xin's maternal love: Mom! The wind and rain in the sky are coming; The bird hides in its nest; The storm in my heart came, and I hid in my mother's arms.
The corn is ripe. Mother ant climbed over every corn-it was her fingers that turned the corn yellow into a poem, and her mother was a bitter poet. The finished product of blood and sweat is as high as the lifeline. The price of time and appearance is not engraved on the scenery outside the mountain. Mother silently just painted the original indifferent and quiet scenery. When she looks at the field alone, she mostly thinks that her mother is the best crop in the field, exactly, the day after her father left. Family ties wither in stubble fields, strange weeds are barren, and her home is wet in the rainy season. Mother stood stubbornly in the garden one after another, her feet plunged into the loess wind and rain, and spent her whole life holding her thin body in her heart, driving away the season, carving annual rings and autumn wind, and holding her life to move on. I'm used to wandering around. Every time I go home and tell my mother something far away, she always listens so carefully. She couldn't bear to interrupt me. Whenever my eyes are full of tears, my mother shakes her light fingers in summer and buckles your beautiful holiday. Women's pride is fleeting. Children's voice should be the voice of Yu Xiang's bone blessing in Yaotai, but it is slowly rippling in the vast sea. You make me believe that life is pitiful, the spring fragrance is faint, and the moon is gently curved. Zhu Yan looks at her mother with a happy low eyebrow. She told me not to forget to smile, but we lamented the nothingness of seventeen-year-old love. We lament that those who got caught up in it left behind wasted years and broken hearts. However, our autumn fairy tales, which are constantly written, can't help but bring a little desolation in her heart. Our books are purely memories. I'm glad I can freeze them in words that my mother doesn't understand. Then let go of your thoughts and feel the hand of life given by your mother. That face tried to change back into the space I missed, but I just lingered at the tip of love. Now I have learned to draw closer with my thoughts and create motivation with my heart. Now my wish is to make my mother's beautiful eyes smile the happiest in thousands of years. It is to let the farewell covered with snow reappear the oath blocked by the door. When it is cold, I will think of my mother. My mother is not afraid of cold. My mother is afraid of cold winter. Mother wears thin clothes and sews warm cotton-padded clothes on her children's hands. Red mother's lips are purple, but mother always says it is not cold. Mother never goes near the stove, and her children surround it. Mom never understood when she was a child. Now that she has grown up, she knows that her mother is really not afraid of the cold. I'm afraid her children will write to her coldly, and your hair will turn white as frost. who is it? My wandering footsteps are on the road in a foreign land, and your tears begin to flow quietly. My long-distance footsteps have traveled all over the world, and my heart will always be by your side. Mom, your tears are my sadness, your smile is my comfort, your love is the warmest language, which makes me strong, your arm is the biggest harbor, which makes me coquetry, and I am the attachment you can't stay. You are my eternal attachment to my mother-you are my hometown all my life. Mother's deep night drowned the noise of youth. The bright moon smeared the quiet earth, complaining about the guests, but the dream was a little soft and comfortable. In the moonlight, I caught the shadow of the tree, but first I got mottled drunkenness, and my soft heart was blown by the soft wind. It fell into the dust with heavy memories, and fell back to my mother and my childhood peasant mother. The joyful smile is full of goodwill and joy. That's because the wandering son of a distant guest came back, and the kindness and smile of his mother's joy gradually spread in the air and became a bright moon all over the sky.
4. Motherly love poems Modern mother poems
Author: love
Mother is as humble as moss,
Solemn as the morning light,
As soft as the voice of Jiangnan,
Hard as a thousand years of cold jade,
When I raised my eyes,
She is Hao Yue:
When I looked down,
She is a vast land.
Great maternal love
Author: Loulis
In the morning, maternal love is bathed in sunshine.
As wide as the sea, the heart slowly unfolds.
Motherly love softens the light,
Let people be in a harmonious atmosphere.
Even if we are in a deep sleep,
Maternal love is still a trickle,
Drop by drop into my heart,
Until happiness gushes out.
Motherly love is like a circle,
There is no beginning and no end.
Motherly love always extends an invisible hand,
Touch the most unforgettable string in your heart.
We need to seize every second of the rest of our lives,
Taste great maternal love!
Bing Xin wrote classic fragments of poems about maternal love.
Mom!
The wind and rain in the sky are coming,
The bird hid in his nest;
The storm in my heart is coming,
I only hide in your arms.
-"Stars"
Another year,
Still blowing slightly like this,
Can I take another photo?
Spring water quietly thanked me and said:
"My friend!
I never left a shadow,
Not just for you. "
-"Spring Water"
Humorous words
◆ Young people! Draw your present picture carefully for future memories.
◆ The flower of speech is getting bigger and bigger; The smaller the fruit of behavior.
◆ Birds in the air! Why argue with your partner in the cage? You have your own world.
◆ Flowers in the corner! When you admire yourself, the world becomes smaller.
◆ Stars can only make young people's hair turn white, but not their hearts turn gray.
6. Bing Xin's poem describing maternal love is 1, mom!
The wind and rain in the sky are coming,
The bird hides in its nest;
The storm in my heart is coming,
I only hide in your arms.
2. Date of creator
If in eternal life,
There is only one blissful promise,
I want to sincerely beg:
"I'm in my mother's arms,
Mom's on the boat,
The ship is at sea in the moonlight. "
3. mom!
Put aside your troubles,
Let me fall into your arms,
Only you are the destination of my soul.
Little flower,
I want to look up, too,
Thank you for your love of dates in spring.
However, deep goodwill,
This finally silenced her.
Mom!
Were you that spring?
7. Imitate Bing Xin's poems about maternal love. Motherly love is like a raging sea, a sky, a "safe haven" and a hot spring.
Pick a bunch of the brightest roses,
With all my dear words to my mother,
Mom said I was stupid,
Roses are flowers that symbolize love.
I don't know,
It is also a flower that the child gave to his mother.
The human body can leave,
People don't leave,
Just as we will never forget our ancestors,
Forget about mother.
Mother is the quilt on her body,
Without her, she would feel cold.
Mother is the salt in the dish,
Life is tasteless without her.
Mother must have her pain.
The pain of wandering,
It often hangs on her face,
Interwoven with laughter watching children.
Life is like walking on a stormy road.
Mother is at the front.
Send some umbrellas to protect the children from the wind and rain to their mothers.
Mom pushed it to me again.
Ah, the child under the umbrella,
Mother outside the umbrella,
Rain is no longer rain,
It was a tear of happiness that God sent to the world.