Excellent composition of lyric prose 600 words

Seven masterpieces of 600-word lyric prose.

Excellent lyric prose has sincere feelings and vivid language, and the author often uses symbols, metaphors and other means to put his thoughts in the image, so it has a strong artistic appeal. The following is my 600-word excellent lyric prose, hoping to provide you with reference and reference.

600 words (1) When I was very young, the grandmother I met should still be healthy, but I can't remember. Now that I have grown up, all my grandmother has left is her back, hunchback and wheelchair.

The bungalow in my hometown is completely shaded by the willow trees at the door in summer. I ran out to play and tied a big cattail leaf fan behind me as armor. Grandma probably lies in the quilt all day. I don't pay attention, and I can't remember clearly. Usually I'm yelling, and grandma chases me out to coax me to keep my voice down so as not to wake grandma who is taking a nap. I was disappointed to hear that, so I didn't like that lifeless old man. So I snorted at the old woman through the fuzzy glass and dark screen window. I can't see grandma's figure clearly, but I can only see the wheelchair swaying with the shadow of the trees. It shook my eyes several times and shed strange tears unconsciously.

I only saw it in the first month after that. Grandparents are probably the oldest generation, and they are all rooted in unclean beds like trees. During the Chinese New Year, men kowtow and little girls just collect red envelopes. I was urged by my mother to go forward and receive my grandmother's red envelope. When I received the red envelope, I looked down at my grandmother's hand. It's a pile of loose skin on the thin skeleton, which makes people feel uncomfortable. I didn't know what expression to put on. I just took the red envelope gloomily, thanked me quickly and rushed back to my parents. The ugly wheelchair that shook my eyes was still waiting at the grandmother's bedside, as if staring at me, but it was not blaming me for escaping, but silently sad.

Soon after, grandpa went.

I still go back several times a year, and I still see wheelchairs and grandmothers. Every time I leave, I will say goodbye to my grandmother with a smile, and then I look back and see her turn around and go home. I was surprised at her thinness, because I never remembered that she was so weak and lonely! Her whole body leaned on that ugly wheelchair, and her descendants walked in the opposite direction. The wheelchair accompanied her through many encounters.

I think grandma still wants to hear my noisy voice in the bungalow in summer!

Generally speaking, it is difficult to see the sunrise on a foggy morning. However, we were lucky enough to see the spectacle of "sunrise in the fog".

That day, the sky was foggy The sky in the fog is really narrow, as if it can only accommodate me. Looking around, the fog is light and leisurely, just like a gauze lingering between river bridges, buildings and plants. I paced on the bridge like a fairy roaming in heaven. I didn't expect the morning light in my hometown to be so beautiful: autumn insects are singing far and near; The faint fragrance of flowers is refreshing with moisture and moisture ... Suddenly, due east, the white fog is covered with a layer of gold gauze, glittering with gold. At first glance, yellow and white are mixed and uninteresting.

At this time, the fog stirred up, as if the "white aunt fairy" wanted to take back the beautiful gauze dress. When the "tulle" gradually dissipates, the whole earth is exposed.

The sun is rising slowly. Look, it's red and bright. It seems to be a big red ball full of gas, with a round red face and a shrug. Looks like he's working hard. I can't wait for the most exciting moment. Oh! Well done, jump out! The sun rushing out of the horizon finally decorated the land in my hometown with extreme beauty! At this time, the reed by the river shook its head and kissed it with the light of the rising sun; The water drops on the leaves of wild flowers, flashing different colors, quietly rolled down and made a gentle "beep" sound, as if to say hello to the sun; Pieces of new farmhouse buildings, slender grass on the roadside, bicycles flowing to work, and farmers carrying hoes in the fields are all involved in the fog, facing the morning light, revealing their feelings. ...

At the moment, I want to cheer and shout, but I don't know what to shout at the moment. Staring at the sun, I feel that I have grown up after the morning fog, everything in my hometown is growing, and my motherland is thriving.

When I was young, one dark night, I suddenly had a high fever. Because there is no car on the road and my father is not at home, my mother is anxious like an ant on hot bricks. Looking back at my uncomfortable appearance, I bit my teeth, picked me up and ran to the hospital. I leaned over her back and asked feebly, "How far is it?" "Not far, 6 kilometers." "Not far, not far, not far." I read it again and again. As if seeking comfort. Gradually, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital bed with a drip in my hand, and my mother, I don't know when she had fallen asleep in bed. Suddenly I found that my mother's head had grown white hair. Let her sleep! I remember my mother carefully, and my heart kept calling: mom, mom!

Later, when I came home, my mother shone a flashlight on me jumping in front. I asked, "Mom, why does this lamp always shine on me?" Mom smiled and said, "This light, I like to follow the children." "Ah, this light likes me! This light likes me! " I danced with joy, and my childish voice echoed in the sky.

I am old, I went to primary school, and I do a lot of homework every day. My mother goes to my neighbor's house to chat every day so as not to affect my homework. After finishing my homework, I went to call my mother. Mother in the light is obviously old and not as energetic as before. I walked over and said softly, "Mom, let's go." On the way home, my mother found that the light of the flashlight was always biased towards her and said, "Clearly, this light is biased." I smiled and said, "There is no prejudice. This lamp is different from yours. It likes to follow adults. " My mother shed tears of relief, hugged me and said, "My life has grown up ..." Before I could say it, I was crying!

Now, I understand that 6 kilometers is not long, it is the distance of love. Love can shorten the distance.

Now, I understand that light not only likes adults or children, but also likes love.

I know better that true feelings are like the seeds of love, which are planted in our hearts.

600 words (4) Put your face on the window, everything in your eyes is brilliant, and the autumn sun shines on the fields harvested not far away.

A bird in the clear sky took me to the pure sky. At noon, a family was smoking, and the car suddenly stopped. At the intersection of the village entrance, several old trees stand impressively. At first it was a flat road, and there was a winding path at the head of the village. Fallen leaves piled up beside my face and stepped on the golden leaves. The wind came and the leaves rustled, which immersed me in the beautiful scenery of my hometown.

My hometown is not as elegant as a water town in the south of the Yangtze River, nor as elegant and dignified as an ancient town, but I love the countryside and atmosphere of my hometown alone.

Walking on the road of the village. Autumn leaves all the way, which makes people feel beautiful. We walked under the tree at the head of the village. Old people sit together, their silver hair fluttering in the wind. Children are running under the old trees, and the vitality of autumn is on people's faces.

In the unique atmosphere of this elegant hometown, the autumn in my hometown is also full of harvest. Walking on the narrow track and field, the fields on both sides spread out along the perspective, the crops are ripe and the fields are golden. The autumn wind blows, setting off an avalanche of rice waves, like waves on the sea.

At this time, the sun is glaring in the air. It is like a kind of blending agent, blending autumn colors bit by bit, noble and elegant, and the picture of hometown is more gentle.

Looking at the village from a distance, the smoke rises from the farmhouse yard, and the houses are arranged compactly without clutter. There is a quiet atmosphere in the country, and sometimes there are one or two dogs barking. Under the sunshine, the village is even more brilliant, instantly frozen, reflecting a beautiful rural picture.

The sun went down, and under the last orange light, the farmers in the fields came back with tools, and the aroma of food was scattered everywhere, and the faces of the returning people were filled with smiles.

The countryside is filled with simple atmosphere, and everything in my hometown is so beautiful and warm. In the afterglow of autumn, walking on the path of my hometown, every grass and tree in my hometown has aroused my admiration.

The unique beauty of my hometown has been lingering in my mind. Facing the sunset, I walked to the hut.

Excellent lyric prose of 600 words (5) Stand quietly in a series of intermittent intervals, let pedestrians fill them with hard ribbons, stand silently in a row of memory curves, and let pedestrians forget the distance of the journey.

This is a tree by the road. Whenever I listen to the wind's "symphony" on the expressway by car, it always forms a straight line and dances in a low-key way in this wonderful music, making this "song" more harmonious and vivid.

He is always silent because he knows that this is the stage of the wind.

I think, if there are no roadside trees under this blue sky, what is the interest of this wind, this road, this car and this person in this journey? Then, in this journey of life, there will be no "roadside trees". Even if you climb to the top and see the "mountains" alone, I'm afraid everything in front of you is silent.

Suddenly, my soul flew to the green valley, where it took root and sprouted. ...

Teacher, this word contains greatness in the ordinary!

The seven-foot platform and a box of chalk convey knowledge, beliefs, correct world outlook and values to the lovely students in the audience in waves. Year after year, no regrets. Teachers are ordinary, like "roadside trees", caring for the "wind" on the stage with low-key intentions. The teacher is great. Their silent dedication has created the gorgeous dance of "Wind".

Ma Yun of Alibaba once said with emotion: The person I am most grateful to is Cai Chongxin. Who knows that such an unknown person actually saved Alibaba in from the mire three times-obtained Softbank funds, ate Yahoo China and survived the e-commerce bubble. It is he, the invisible hero of Alibaba, who works miracles again and again. Alibaba's "expressway" has such a "roadside tree", dedicated to the beautiful scenery of that world, dancing in a low-key way, and weaving fresh green into a "bridge" leading to success.

Trees along the road always stand quietly in a series of intermittent intervals, guarding the beauty and harmony of a world with sweat and efforts.

I would like to turn into a roadside tree and stand on the stage of life forever, guarding my faith.

I walked gently in the autumn wind and saw the color in the eyes of pedestrians and the joy in the eyes of a small boss when he collected money. I can't help but recall grandpa's eyes, where there is a deep light.

Grandpa is over 70 years old, and life in the country has made him strong but simple and delicate. He likes children very much, and he loves me very much. When I was a child, I often played with him in the rice fields in my hometown. Just after cutting rice, half of the rice stalks flashed golden light and caught my eye. As far as I can see, everything is covered by this color, and my pupils are gradually merging with this rice straw. I took my grandfather's hand, and he took me and started running slowly in the rice field. Running and running, our grandfather and grandson met, and I saw a pool of autumn water in grandpa's eyes, which was the joy of harvest and hid his aging back. Somehow, I subconsciously kept this moment in my heart and never forgot it.

Suddenly, my feet went soft and I sat on the ground. Suddenly, I felt that half of my body was adsorbed on the soft mud, and the pain suddenly struck, and my eyes were full of mud. Grandpa rushed over and picked me up. He hugged me tightly, comforted me gently and made me feel his warmth. His eyes wandered around me, full of worries and troubles. After confirming that I was all right, we smiled at each other again. The sunset falls in our eyes, and the warm feeling spreads in our hearts, which makes me feel warm.

Thought of here, my eyes can not help but blur. I woke up from my memory and suddenly found that my grandfather, who was laughing with me, had left. Before bed, his muddy eyes looked at me firmly, and a satisfied smile floated around his mouth. ...

Tears blurred my eyes and hit my heart. Grandpa's eyes came quietly, but they were fleeting. There seems to be a piece missing in my heart, and even if time goes by, it still can't heal.

My eyes are full of tears, just like a shallow pool. I saw a familiar shadow in that pool of tears, and my eyes came running towards me like warm sunshine. ...

Excellent composition of lyric prose 600 words (7) In my childhood, there was a place where many childhood memories were hidden; There, I met a classmate who never knew me and talked about everything; I met a teacher who asked us to recite notes and write a composition every week, where I gained a memory that I will always remember.

Here, I have been studying from an auxiliary class to a breakthrough class in the examination room. In the past few years, I have gained a lot of knowledge. Harvest the feelings of teachers and students who get along with us and become friends; Get valuable friendship.

Here, I experienced the challenge and fun of peeling eggs with one hand; Experience the pain of eating raw peppers; Experience the happiness of going to the hotel to eat a dish and grab a bowl of rice with my classmates. Now that I think about it, I can't help but feel happy for us.

In retrospect, every time we arrive at school on time before 8: 30 on Sunday, we will complain that "I always arrive so early that I don't wake up." Even if I don't want to come, I still insist on it now; When we are in class, the teacher is serious; After class, she will play with us; Teacher Strawberry often pours us a big bowl of "chicken soup for the soul" in class. None of us liked it at first. Now that I think about it, I can't hear Teacher Strawberry's "Chicken Soup for the Soul" anymore, and I can't help but feel extremely sad.

It turns out that we have been complaining that Teacher Strawberry is very dark. When we think that it will be difficult to see them in the future, we feel that black spots are good. It turns out that we have been saying that we don't want to breathe. We have to take notes, write compositions and do our homework every week. I'm so tired. However, this class will be the last time we talk about the strawberry teacher, the last time we write a composition, and the last time … we have to say goodbye to this.

From breathing to a big breakthrough in the examination room, it's not long or short, even in this short period of time, it's full of my memories of breathing composition.

This summer, we will leave this place, and next semester, this classroom will be full, but that group of people is no longer us. ...