Poetry and Prose: Meng Xiao always cares about love

Breeze winds around the moon, willows hang down the embankment, and green leaves and red flowers surround Pan Li. Clear light and thin shadow, west wind shutter door, tender feelings are hard to send. As night falls, I think more and more, and I feel sad even when I dream in the middle of the night. Loneliness locks autumn. Acacia is hard to send, the night is short and the dream is long, the moonlight is sultry, and the evening wind blows away the acacia dream.

The night is dim, people lean on the railing and look alone, the sky is boundless, the sky is boundless, the long acacia turns into a butterfly and dances, drunk in the flowers, why not go home? Where did the dulcimer come from? Where is the missing part? What is the gentleness of Tao? How close is the spring breeze?

The cloud is the shadow of the wind, and the rain is the sound of the cloud. The two are intertwined and inseparable. Just like the vows we once made: share life and death, have a good talk with Zicheng, hold your hand and grow old with your son. Time flies. After many years, the vows of love and the declaration of youth have already settled, stranded in the shoal of fleeting time. Let time wash away youth, filter out a few lingering feelings, leaving only dry thoughts and entangled dreams.

Love is often difficult to control. Recalling the past, you used to be Zhu Shazhi on my chest, as bright as blood, and blooming like a delicate millet in the lonely midnight; Jun is my kite flying in the blue sky, dancing with the wind, but the thread is tightly grasped in my hand; You used to be the string of purple wind chimes in front of my window. The evening breeze is swaying, and the sweet bell accompanies me to sleep. You used to be the most beautiful scenery in my dream, with red flowers and green leaves and clear clouds, but good dreams are always easy to wake up.

At the beginning of the lamp, the night is getting cold, the pen is full of tenderness, and at noon it becomes an elf, wandering on the edge of the dream. Do you ever remember the soft words on the pillow, which made the moon shy, made the clouds bow their heads, and the wind combed their hair lingering? You tuned the strings, woven a piece of satin mandarin duck brocade, made a plum blossom, accompanied by a piece of Sauvignon Blanc, and composed a Yang Chunqu.

Dream back at midnight, loneliness breeds, thoughts grow crazy, feelings get longer and longer, and dreams get longer and longer. Candle shadows reflect my old face, solitary lights accompany me to sleep, and snuff is as thin as a lamp. If you know, I hope you dream with you every night like my heart.

Countless long nights, I rummaged through all the memories under the lonely lamp, letting my thoughts pass through the reincarnation of previous lives, just to find bits and pieces about you; In countless lingering dreams, I call your name affectionately, and I won't wake up if you don't come.

Continue to write lingering dreams with graceful words and record love chapters with beautiful poems. Emotions that once bloomed as beautiful as fireworks, like meteors, cut through the sky of youth; Such as the early morning rain hanging on the wall of ivy, crystal clear; Like a rainbow hanging on the blue bridge of dreams after rain. Tender as water, fleeting memories, such as fleeting time, the temperature of the palm is getting colder and colder, frozen in the dead of winter, drunk on the left side of the dream, waking up on the edge of love and hate.

I often sigh sad and cold rainy nights. Who am I talking to? Romantic don't understand, tender feelings to dream. Time flies, sweeping through youth with lightning speed. I have no regrets to accompany you in this life, singing in the red dust, gathering less and leaving more. There is plenty of grass in the sea, and the heart is king. In the dream, in the lotus pond of love, watching the soft moonlight like a dream, watching the blue waves of Yingying Lake rippling, layers of lotus leaves, full of love poems, cutting a shallow time and weaving a dream.

If you pity me, in the spring breeze blowing willow season, in the alley where the spring rain is continuous, next to the broken bridge on the bluestone board, you will hold up an umbrella for me, stare at me affectionately and watch the flowers bloom. If you know me, rolling in the world of mortals, the vast road of love, rowing the boat of love, stay for me, stay in the deep heart. If you understand me, the night is long, the lonely lamp is cold, and it becomes a butterfly full of tenderness and dreams.

Don't get carried away, love is long-lasting, and hate is long-lasting. Du Like Juan's blood and tears are like pebbles thrown into the lake, and his feelings are hard to calm down. I think you are a ruin, but I think you are a sad girl. Where did Mo Wen return? My soul came back to my dreams several times.