Warm composition flows in the years.

In daily study, work and life, everyone has written a composition, which is a narrative method to express a theme through words. How to write a thoughtful and literary composition? The following is a warm composition I collected for you (generally 10), I hope it will help you.

Warm composition flowing in the years 1 Every kind of youth will eventually grow old, but I hope your memory will always be beautiful. -inscription

Along the route of memory, I firmly grasp my thoughts and keep running forward with time. Looking back suddenly, I marveled that I had spent warm pictures again and again. ...

I still remember the humorous tone of the head teacher in the third grade of primary school; I still remember the amiable face of the graduating class teacher; I still remember that the soft voice of the math teacher who taught me for two years reassured me; I still remember that the "boss" of Class 38 barely pretended to be "evil"; I remembered ...

I can't forget the teacher's reluctant expression when I graduated from primary school. In my impression, the Chinese teacher was so strong, but when we separated, they hugged us with tears ... I couldn't forget the ranking that was not proportional to my efforts after the military training in the third grade, which made the "boss" cry. At that time, she told us that we worked really hard. Everyone was very serious during the competition, but the result was so unfair ... I can't forget that when the "boss" first met us, she said, "I was a little lost when I heard from other teachers that it was a poor class, and I wanted to change classes. However, as soon as I entered the classroom and saw your lovely little faces, I was a little reluctant to leave ... "Eldest brother, maybe you don't know the nickname we gave you privately. In our hearts, you are our "big brother", and we all know what you mean. ...

I still remember those amiable teachers.

I still remember you, Guimei. You were my classmate for five years. You can always surprise people unexpectedly, and you can always be reasonably reassuring. In five years, we had quarrels, complaints, pains and joys. I still remember that time when a naughty boy threw water on my head. You were so anxious that you usually rushed to fight with others. Afterwards, when you helped me wipe my hair, you didn't say anything, nor did I, but I clearly noticed that your eyes were full of tears. ...

Guimei, if you stay behind me in fully mature autumn, then I always stumble in summer. You pay attention to the result, and I pay attention to the process. You are a fruitful autumn, and I am a summer that strives to nurture energy. We, one like autumn and the other like summer, can always turn winter into spring. ...

I remember an old friend who regarded me as a bosom friend.

Mom, I still remember the steaming breakfast you put on the table every morning; I still remember the love reminder before going to school every morning; I still remember your warm love words when I was sick; I still remember that the sky is full of stars, and you accompany me to count the stars; I still remember that when climbing the mountain, I instinctively leaned on your warm shoulder ... Your love is like "blowing the willow wind is not cold", like "getting wet", like the rain after a long drought, like the freshness of the forest, like the spring water, sweet, fresh and clear. ...

I can't forget that when I was nine years old, I was naughty and playing on the road. The white car nearby honked its horn to let you protect me with your body at that critical moment, and I was scolded by the driver. Others may think that the plot of making a TV series is incredible, but I have experienced it personally, but I can't forget it.

I still remember my mother who worked day and night for me.

Some people are stubborn, and in the end, it's just a moment.

And some moments, you can, and you will never forget them.

I still remember the warmth that flowed in those years, and I will always remember it. ...

One summer day, my stomach was sorting out books at home, and a photo suddenly fell out of the gap in the book. The sun shone on the photo, which was warm and harmonious. Among them, the most brilliant thing is that you have been unsmiling for six years-our most beloved teacher Shen for six years. At this moment, I can see six years of dribs and drabs in my mind. ...

I remember when I first entered school, my father told me that you were the most severe class teacher and told me to be careful in everything. Students from other classes also came to comfort me and said, "Be careful, let's put up with it for six years ... how can we see the rainbow without experiencing wind and rain?" Alas ..... at that time, I thought, I am really unlucky to meet a teacher like you. Sure enough, everything they said came true. In class, you keep a straight face, look serious, never make small moves, and your tone of voice is very blunt. The words you use the most are: must, immediately, must, and so on.

We also discussed privately whether you can laugh. We imagined your adopted son when you laughed. It was not until the eve of graduation that our impression of you changed ... you always told us this and that, and you were worried about our study, our diet and what we would forget ... that is, I just found out that you are thinner and older than six years ago, and your shiny black hair is mixed with some silver wires. At this moment, I really realized that under your serious and cold expression, there is a heart that has been caring for us and shining on our healthy growth like sunshine.

In life, you care about us all the time.

On that day, goose feather-like snowflakes were flying in the air, and they were blown by strong winds, drawing people's dances in the air. Maybe I have a cold and a bad cough. You should call my mother at once, but she works far away and my father is on a business trip. You took my hand and ran all the way to the nearby hospital, regardless of official business and the truth of the snow, and settled me down before turning back to school. At that moment, I understood what is the teacher-student relationship; At that moment, I felt your love for me; At that moment, I was in tears.

That day in graduation photo, it had just rained, and it was cloudy and windy. At that time, my mood was very complicated. I was both excited and reluctant to give up. As we all know, as soon as the photo of graduation photo is taken, the class that has been together for six years will go up the ladder, and the students who have been together for six years will go their separate ways for the next stop in life. However, to our surprise, at that moment, you smiled so brightly. This is our long-awaited smile! At that moment, the photographer left us an eternal memory.

Now, it's still summer, and nothing can erase my thoughts of you. The short and long six years passed in such a hurry. I will cherish it forever and let this warm day flow through every corner of my body!

Warm composition flows in the years 3 A rain, an umbrella, a person, strolling on the path I walked with you.

I saw you this morning. Vaguely remember, the sun is shining, and I came to this classroom with my longing for junior high school life. My eyes wandered in the crowd, I saw the familiar electric fan spinning overhead, and I saw the familiar desks and chairs in the classroom. However, I can't find familiar faces and figures, and my heart is a little lonely. So a person sat quietly in the corner, waiting for the arrival of the angel.

Here you are, introduce yourself to me warmly, hold my hand warmly and let me integrate into the new class. Since then, there has been one more you in my world. You are like the warm sun that day.

I am just like you, a simple girl. Willing to write our friendship in the simplest way.

When a red sun rises slowly from the east, I have been riding a bicycle and trying my best to run to school, because I know that you are waiting for me at the school gate and studying with you; When the teacher announces the class is over, I will definitely come to your seat to chat with you, because I know you will wait for me and talk to you in your seat; When sunset and rosy clouds fill the sky, there will be two little girls waving goodbye in the sunset, because we are eager to stay with each other for one more second. ...

Like you, I am a girl who loves literature and is willing to tie each other's hearts together with literature.

You read Border Town and tearfully told me that the affection between Cui Cui and grandpa was so touching, just like myself and grandpa, except that grandpa went to a paradise. I will accompany you silently and let you wipe tears and snot on my clothes. I have read Haizi and told you with longing that when I grow up, I want to have a house facing the sea and blooming in spring. You told me excitedly that you would stay in that house and accompany me for a lifetime. ...

Like you, I am an ignorant child, willing to face the rainy season of life with ignorance.

In the summer night, you come to my house to play, you and I hold a lot of snacks, climb stairs, sit on the roof, eat snacks and look up at the stars. Staring at the charming moonlight and twinkling stars, you blushed and told me the secret of your heart. I shyly told my story. We hooked our little fingers and agreed to keep it a secret forever. It's summer night again, the moonlight is still charming and the stars are still shining. The same scene is different.

Meeting each other now is just a smile, and no one wants to open their arms for each other first. Maybe the distance between reality has opened the distance between our hearts. Finally, we got up the courage to meet you as if nothing had happened and tell us the distance between us. You use Stephanie's song to say, "There is something called time that says, no problem, we will recover in the end."

A rain, an umbrella, a person, looking for traces of our past. Suddenly I found that the cicada on the tree was as loud as it was then, and the warm current flowing in the lost years was still fragrant!

Warm composition flows quietly in the past four years, but you, can you be safe?

-inscription

I will never forget the wonderful time I spent with you. ...

Remember the days when we laughed and played together? Remember the days when those teachers sneaked something into his mouth when he was not looking? Remember the day when we secretly read comics together and the teacher found out that we were scolded? Do you remember those days when you secretly hid in physical education class because you didn't want to run? Remember the time when we ran freely in the open fields in the suburbs during the holidays? ...

In my memory, the tall buttonwood tree on the corner witnessed how many warm and beautiful fragments we had-

That's where we first met. It was the first day of school, but suddenly it began to rain. I jumped off the bus and walked around the city, looking around, looking for a place to hide from the rain. At this time, I caught a glimpse of the tall buttonwood and rushed over. Although just after midsummer, the branches and leaves of the plane tree are still lush, but they are not dense enough to block all the raindrops. After a while, my clothes were covered with mottled raindrops. At this time, I looked around anxiously, but I couldn't find a shelter from the rain. And this rain, not only did not weaken, but it rained harder.

At this time, an umbrella was propped on my head and gave me a small shade. I suddenly looked up, it was you! This is our acquaintance. I gratefully say thank you to you. You nod slightly, and then show a warm smiling face. After that, we waited for the rain to stop under the umbrella. After a long silence, the rain finally stopped and we parted ways. ...

When I came to school, the bulletin board was crowded with people. I can't squeeze in because I am weak. I'll just wait by, and I'll go and see it when people are scattered. At this moment, I saw you struggling to squeeze into the crowd. I think you may be in my grade. Later, when I entered the class, I found out that we were actually in the same class!

From then on, we became good friends. We go to school together every day and play together after school. Your grades are better than mine, which has solved many of my study problems. My PE is better than yours. I take you running every day. Every holiday, we will choose to meet under the buttonwood, and then join hands to play wildly in the street.

This happy life will last until next semester, but one day you suddenly told me that you were going to study somewhere else. On the day I saw you off, I felt the sky was gray.

After you left, when I miss you every day, I will stand under the buttonwood for a while, and my mood will be much more cheerful.

Watching the leaves of buttonwood slowly turn yellow and then wither, with the cold wind rustling down, I can't help but think of you in the distance. The years are quiet, can you be well?

Warm composition flows through the years. There was a faint fragrance of gardenia outside the house. I went outside, and angels in white in the studio quietly landed on the green branch, blooming to the fullest, and the fragrance was overflowing, which immersed me in good memories; Brother's laughter, grandma's busy back. ...

In my middle school life, I can only go home once a week and have only a short time with my family. In my spare time, I look after my brother. My brother is learning to walk, so I put my arm on his hand and walked forward step by step. Walking, he is more flexible, running forward, and smiling from time to time, as if he is happy with his progress. Tired, I sat in a chair, held my brother in my lap, and sang nursery rhymes with him: "Little Swallow, wearing a flowered coat, comes here every spring ..." My legs trembled with the rhythm of nursery rhymes, and my hand held his little hand and swayed with nursery rhymes. At this time, my brother will be very happy: "Luo Luo ..." The silvery laughter echoes in our ears, and infinite warmth permeates between us.

Grandma lives in her hometown and seldom has the opportunity to see her, so I will stay in my hometown for two days as long as I go back. Early in the morning, before dawn, I saw an old figure, dressed neatly, opened the door and walked out, and then disappeared into my sight. After getting up, I saw the hot food on the food table, which was delicious. Looking up, I saw grandma walking towards the washing machine, and the short figure shrank farther and farther. I was struggling with my homework when I suddenly thought of one thing and suddenly looked up. Suddenly, I saw a Cang Sang, a thin figure, sitting on a bench, making up something. The warm sunshine was lazily sprinkled on her body, reflecting the shining golden light. Grandma sat silently doing what she wanted to do, busy, but never said a word of complaint. Because grandma is here, the yard in my hometown will not be deserted, but full of warmth.

Walking into the house, I can still smell the fragrance of gardenia outside, which seems to wrap my heart. For example, the thick coffee is memorable, permeating the whole room, flowing in my heart, hiding in my heart with that beautiful memory, and accompanying me through endless years.

If we say, "Love is a trickle, and maternal love is a tributary of this river. Then my mother's love for me will be the warmth flowing in this tributary. The warmth of the years makes me intoxicated!

On the morning of the final exam, I studied late the day before and didn't eat the next day. My mother came running to me with a loaf of bread in her hand and told me something about the exam. I walk to school with bread. I heard my mother shouting behind me, "Don't forget to eat bread, don't forget …"

On the second day of winter vacation, the school teacher told us to go to the bookstore to buy papers. When I went to my aunt's house in Changchun, I forgot to buy a bread roll. It was four days until the day I came back and the day I went back to school. I said to my mother, "I'll make up lessons later and buy it myself!" " "Then I just went upstairs to make up a missed lesson. Two hours later, I packed my schoolbag and ran downstairs. I opened the door and went into my room. I took a closer look. Isn't this the roll that the teacher asked me to buy in bed? I subconsciously took a look at the snow outside the house. I went out of the house and asked my mother, "why did you buy the paper?" Isn't it cold? Don't you say I'll go by myself? " Mom said with a big smile, "It's still hot. When you lose weight! "

Once I was upstairs in my teacher's house, helping him print things. After 7 o'clock, I called my mother and told her not to wait for me to eat! I was busy until 8 o'clock and didn't finish it. But because of the time, I also went home. When I entered the room, I was depressed to see my mother sitting at the dining table. I know my mother is waiting for me to come back and eat her own "braised pork". In the process of washing my hands, I heard the creaking sound in the oil pan. From this voice, I realized the mother's anxious expectation of waiting for her son. Waiting for his son's earnest hope; Meticulous care and consideration. Motherly love is the bulging bread stuffed into my hand in the snow; That is the concern of melting snow in the palm of your hand; Or the ardent expectations of the children waiting at that table ...

Just like in the TV series "Never Gone Radio", this love will never disappear in the years, and the warmth flowing in the years is like snow melting in the palm of your hand, dripping crystal!

Warm composition flows in the years. 7. Opening the rusty cupboard door with difficulty, an old smell immediately spreads in the air. Childhood toys stood there quietly, covered with thick dust. Suddenly, my eyes swept over the toy bike. It is still what I remember, but the color is not as bright as when I was young. Just like the memory about it, it almost faded in the years.

Suppressing the surprise in my heart, I gently took it out of the cupboard, and my fingertips touched the cold of the wire, smelling of memory. How long has it been since I saw this beloved bike? I asked myself gently, but what I saw was grandpa making toys under the light. At that time, my grandfather seemed to be omnipotent. Because of my careless words, he rushed out these two exquisite bicycles overnight. I still remember the day when he gave me his bike. The wrinkles on his face seemed to be full of satisfaction and gave me his grandfather's deep love. "Son," he patted me on the head meaningfully, "when grandpa is old and can't carry you on his back, let this car carry you straight ahead." But at that time, how could I understand the meaning of "old"? I only know that the years are slowly flowing around me. Grandpa's hair turns white and wrinkles are getting more and more day by day, but he loves me very much.

That day, I refused my mother to send me home for the first time and got on my grandfather's worn-out bike. The soft sunshine sprinkled on grandpa, leaving a shadow on me. My grandfather's bicycle ran leisurely on the path, with broken parts creaking and singing nursery rhymes that had accompanied me for a long time. Looking back along the wind, the road under my feet ran backward quickly, just like the memory of the past, slipping away from me in a hurry, leaving only deep and shallow car marks on the ground, recording the warmth of the years.

Looking down at the bicycle in my hand, it seems that I still have the warmth of the sunshine that day, and my mood is just like the joy of that day. I just have a better understanding of my grandfather's later years. I put this bike in the most conspicuous position on my desk, and the sun shone unabashedly, leaving a mottled picture on my desk. Looking at it, the little bike seems to be open, getting bigger and bigger, carrying me and grandpa, bathed in sunshine.

The deep and shallow car prints behind the car are a warm place.

The warm composition flowing in the years 8 Time passes through my fingers in a hurry, and time washes away the appearance of the world without taking away a little bit, just like she came and went quietly, leaving her little traces. ...

Touch the smooth marble and watch the lifelike mythical figures carved by artists living on the stone pillars. The top of the sky, ivory stone pigeons and magnificent ancient Roman architecture all show its wildness and domineering. Oriental classical and elegant architecture is like a noble and elegant woman, like a person with lofty ideals with wild HTC. What kind of hearts do the designers of those places of interest have? Only in this way can such momentum emerge from these buildings? Feel the sound of each stone, listen to the heartbeat of the designer, experience the tears and sweat of the working people who built these buildings, and understand the significance. ...

Those buildings have deeply solidified the picture of history.

When the sun slowly drifted by, pieces of glazed tiles glowed with faint green light, and golden dragons coiled around bright red pillars, roaring and roaring, and the mighty and unyielding stone lions outside the temple all showed his majesty, standing and nobility. Magnificent buildings exude rich ancient fragrance. ...

The long river of historical picture seems to emerge in front of my eyes, like a slow flow, long and thin, as if the end is still in the distant horizon. The breeze is blowing, sparkling and beautiful.

Throughout history, vivid historical figures appear in front of us, and the life experience of each historical figure constitutes a rich historical story, with sweetness, bitterness, tears and laughter. Regime change is still happening, and no one can stop it, can they? Even so, it is still full of warmth and friendship, flowing in people's hearts.

The faint candlelight beats in the darkness, rendering a circle of dizziness around, just like an elf dancing gracefully in the darkness, illuminating every corner of the darkness with its faint light.

Time passed quickly, and the candlelight gradually blurred, leaving only a little tenderness. ...

Warm composition flows in the autumn wind. I sat by the window and watched the ginkgo garden fall outside the window. It was hit by raindrops, constantly changing direction and rolling. The leaves fell on the waterlogged ground and groaned, holding my tired body together. The rain hit the glass, and the overflowing waterline blurred my vision. Just like that time, I sat by the window of the main house. The only difference is that no one, that is, the old man lying in the cold coffin in the middle of the main house, is blue but still serene.

I know it wasn't a long time ago, I can't remember which month and which day, or I don't want to remember. The only thing that impressed me was my blue hands and the dazzling gold in the dark world in the rain.

She can be regarded as my closest relative. When I was a child, I was naughty and threw my shoes on my father's bed, or stole other people's fruits. When my father raised his whip to hit me, I ran behind her and complained in a soft voice that "my father is going to hit me". Then she would reach out her wrinkled hand and pat me on the head and turn her face to scold my father, but my father couldn't hit me in front of her and left after a few words. She was afraid that when I arrived, my father would clean me up and let me enjoy the honor of cooking with my own hands. At the dinner table, I often say that she listened quietly, but now I think of two completely different actions, but they are very harmonious.

A lot of things happened in the middle, all warm and warm. When I left home on a Sunday, she got out of bed and cooked me some dishes I loved so that I could eat them before I left. I said yes, I knew she didn't want to give up, and I knew she was lonely. She has several children, but is separated from her family. My elder sister-in-law and uncle are far away from her, and my cousins are busy with work and don't come back often. I can only chat with her and spend time with her after coming back from the weekend. When eating, I sat on a small bench, holding a bowl, giving her simple and easy-to-eat dishes, telling her strange things outside in words that she could easily understand, and we laughed together; She also told me about the tragic situation during the Cultural Revolution, and we felt the same way. We ate this meal for more than two hours. Finally, she told me earnestly: "We must study hard and get into a good university so as not to be so bitter and fall behind." I've heard this kind of advice a lot. Although I was vaguely uneasy, I smiled and said "yes".

I tried to help her into the house before I left, but she insisted on seeing me off. I turned around at the fork in the road and waved goodbye to her. I saw a photo that I will never forget. The yellowed ginkgo leaves next to the house were blown by the wind and danced in golden dresses in the sun. A piece fell on her head, but she didn't know it. She just looked at me and smiled. The silver hair is shining with golden light, which is in harmony with the leaves, quiet and peaceful.

And then what? No then, this is the last time to talk together.

It was raining on the day of the funeral, and it slipped into my mouth with a little salty taste. Ginkgo biloba with raindrops fell on me, my clothes were wet and my eyes were wet. When I came back, it was over, and the Jin Yezi on the ground had gone to the water stain. I stared at the leaves on the ground like a small fan, and the last smile appeared in front of me. I picked one up and kept it forever.

In my memory, the posture of the person who protected me has been frozen and the smile has faded. Looking at the stopped rain outside the window, I raised a warm smile. Only the leaves are still there, and only the warmth flowing in the past years will never change.

Warm composition flowing in the years 10 We always go forward tirelessly without looking back, heading for an unknown and mysterious future, but occasionally looking back, we also find that flowers bloom and never fade on both sides of the long river of memory. Picking flowers is always fragrant, because our past happiness is precious on the unrepeatable time road.

I seem to remember my mother's coquetry smile and my father's generous and powerful arms, although I no longer have and desire them. Those warm memories are engraved in my heart and will never change.

In the past, we always had dinner together. In the face of a delicious table cooked by grandma, my parents and I talked and laughed and never frowned. I often pick up some delicious food with chopsticks, put it in my parents' bowls, stare at their eyes and eat with a smile, which gives me an indescribable peace. Dad often helps me pick up vegetables, but he always grabs my chopsticks and says, "I have stomach trouble, so don't give it to me." I can't help it How can it be contagious? I can't beat him, but because of the feeling of being concerned, my heart is sweet.

Even if it is nagging, it also represents love! Like a brilliant pearl shining in my heart, it is quietly hidden like a treasure. Just like every time I go out, my mother always shouts, "Be careful, put on your coat, it's cold outside!" " "I always put on a look of impatience and helplessness, but I am laughing in my heart: Alas, no one will remind me that I will catch cold in the future. My mother came over in a hurry, saw me dressed, and then nodded, showing her concern at a glance. I washed half the clothes and cooked half the dishes, which I didn't care about. She insisted on watching me walk away wrapped up so that she would turn around.

The warmth of a family of three when they go out, like those daily chores, is also in front of the window. Yesterday, I still remember it vividly. The music played by pots and pans, like a pattern sewn by needle and thread, draws a beautiful stroke on the staff of life and prints it in your mind. Like our family of three, there are always two eyes staring at me and surrounded by this. I know that the tenderness that will drown me is my warmest and safest harbor. As long as you are tired of playing, there are always two arms open in the old days. In those years, although I learned to fly alone, as long as I went home, I had a dependence and seized happiness.

Time is full of sand in my hand. I watched it go away a little at a loss, squeezed it, but it flowed faster. I finally learned dusty memories and let them flow endlessly in the long river of memories. In fact, those warmth did not pass with time. No matter how the world changes, it will never stop flowing and settling, accompanying me.