A Drop Of Acacia

Knead a seed that you meet, and scatter it in your hope. Autumn waters The intersection, across the missing footpaths, for you to stop in the heart of the flowers and the moon, pour out the love that is harmonious, the flap like butterflies fly. -- inscription

Depending on the time, slowly opening the pain and pity of those days and nights, counting the long dormant words, measuring the distance from the other side, the pen in hand, writing 00 broken chapters, but dare not let you know that the deep feelings of silence and deep sorrow have been circling in the heart of sweet heart.

Messy youth, accompanied by your figure, the poetry of the Orioles, though they are interlinked with each other, they are separated by mountains and rivers.

Sitting in the expectant sentimentally, I always hope to call it the end of the world. Cape Where to find Sing merrily and dance gracefully In the moving of infiltration, curl up a curtain and dream, dense every corner of the four seasons.

In spring, in the germinating soil, you stretch your warmth and become a poetic image.

Summer, kite flying crane, you have more intense feelings of accumulation.

When the maple is dyed in mid autumn, my thoughts of precipitation and the brocade of wild clouds in the clouds are filled with the most incisive lines in the sky.

In winter, my life is flowing in a pure and tender way. Following the snowy flakes of heaven, I trace the footprints of love into the shore of flowers.

The meeting of the dust, the persistent commitment deducted in the fleeting years, stubbornly tenacious in the bottom of my heart.

The setting sun is poetic and dusk is picturesque. I do not know what love is, and what tears are.

Flowers bloom and flowers fall, the location laid in the heart, only a flower in this life, not enchanting and enchanting, but only willing to accompany with the side, salvaging the charming love of the butterfly and love the flowers.

Though I have imagined that if one day is relative to two speechless, is there still a tacit agreement between souls? You say, though gentle and gentle, there is no settlement, but it can navigate the direction of the clouds.

A mountain of water and a long tune. I quietly crushed my thoughts into a clear and fragrant heart, and put them in ice and jade plates. Half of them sent to you, half of them flowed softly at my fingertips and drunk into a fragrant years.