Write a composition with homesickness.

1. Imitating homesickness with homesickness's model essay is a warm sweater when you are ignorant. Homesickness is a shallow stream after weavers go to school at one end. I stand at the finish line. My mother grew up in the source. Homesickness is a distant flute. He plays at that end and I listen at that end. Homesickness is a full moon now. When people who look at this end are in pain and despair, the painful time is very long. The journey is so long and tiring. When you are lonely, pain is the beginning of a person's dance and the end of yourself. When you are in trouble, the pain is infinite. I want to leave, but I can't find the exit. When I am confused, pain is a cell that keeps dividing. When I was a child, happiness was a little candy in my mouth and sweet in my heart. After graduation, happiness is a thick record of classmates, but people's real feelings gather together. Later happiness was a beautiful family portrait. Time has passed, but the smile has been casting. Now happiness is a warm letter, from a distant home, but warm in front of you.

2. Writing a homesick composition is a drizzle outside the window; Tonight, the wind is knocking on my window lattice again, and my homesickness is like a soaked seed, expanding for no reason. The dream of wandering for many days vaguely climbed the winding path in the village.

Who is it, playing homesick music on the flute in the moonlight night, and the sad tune inadvertently fills the wasteland in my heart; Who is reading the ancient poems of homesickness every night, and the degree of sadness drops the boundless and quiet homesickness. I used to think that in this strange city, I was used to the life of eight to five. In the days of frustration, the mountains and rivers in my hometown have gradually drifted away. Looking back suddenly, I found that fragrance was sealed in my heart and I realized that I was a flying kite. No matter where I am, the rope of my heart will always be tied to the buttonwood in front of my hometown.

A rain wet all my memories, homesickness is like a garden full of leeks; Long cut; Cut it long. Everything in my hometown flashed in my memory. In my lonely heart, my thoughts are like fish swimming around. Once indulged in the frustration of life, however, the unchanging posture of that mountain and that simple family and hometown faded into a song without words and a poem with Kubinashi rhyme in poetry. My soul has already floated out and returned to my hometown through thousands of waters in Qian Shan. I am enjoying pure rice wine with simple folks.

When the geese flying south can no longer be seen in the air, when the leaves on the buttonwood are yellow and blue, my unchanging homesickness is playing leisurely, just like the flute in Qingyuan, my hometown. Also like Li Houzhu's "hate like grass, you will live farther and farther".

Homesickness composition of 3.600 words (homesickness style), what? Nostalgia, patriotism or more?

When I was young, I obeyed everything and didn't know what sorrow was. Same, flowers, carefree. Happiness is short-lived, with no regrets and no stay.

Gradually, I began to grow up. Left home and went to a distant place. I haven't been home for a long time. Mother sent a core. The contents of the letter made my eyes moist. I closed the letter and saw a stamp on the envelope. Small square, but holding me far away from home and my mother who looks forward to it day and night.

This is my first "worry" when I grow up-homesickness caused by stamps.

Grow up, more mature than before. But a little childish about love.

I came back from far away to visit my elderly mother. I should get married.

The bride is beautiful and virtuous. My mother and I are also very harmonious and happy. The wrinkles on mom's face are clearly visible. But a little happiness still exists. Beautiful bride, my return seems to smooth the wrinkles on my mother's face, which is no longer obvious and seems to be looming.

Soon, I went to that distant place again, leaving only my mother and bride. Mother's face lost a trace of happiness. I gave up, but I left anyway.

The result is more yearning for the bride, less communication with my mother, and gradually forgetting my mother, but the yearning for the bride remains the same. We started to go home at both ends in three days, and a boat ticket narrowed our distance. But my heart only has the position of the bride, and my mother only occupies a small corner.

Many years have passed and I have really grown up. Go back to my hometown again and visit my long-lost bride. Suddenly found that there seems to be one person missing at home. It turns out that mom is not at home, and she has gone far away. -heaven. Further than me. I am separated from her by a thick layer of soil, my mother is lying inside and I am standing outside. My thoughts with my mother suddenly returned to the starting point, endless and endless, and she left with her.

-the third point is the "homesickness" across the short grave.

My mother's departure didn't stop me from growing up. I grew up and even began to get old.

There are a few more wrinkles on my face, but I still haven't lost a trace of sadness after vicissitudes. I still miss my mother. The child has grown up.

Gradually, I began to yearn for the mainland, feeling that my mother was there watching me and expecting me to come back to her. I often tell my children that there is something new in the mainland that will make you feel warm. Right here, on the other side of the channel. Just cross the shallow channel of this bay and you can reach it.

So, with this hope, I hope I can return to my mother's side, that warm embrace. On the other side of the mainland-the strait.

I still miss it and look forward to it.

Until I leave, my thoughts will continue until I become "sad".

4. Homesickness composition "The cold light of the hotel does not sleep alone, and the guest's heart turns to sorrow.

My hometown is thinking thousands of miles tonight, and the temple will be another year tomorrow. The first time I read Yu Guangzhong's Homesickness at my desk, I was deeply intoxicated by the deep homesickness between the lines.

I read it again and again, and the lingering sadness, like smoke, surged around in my heart, trying to calm it down, but I couldn't, but it was even more violent. Today is New Year's Eve, but I am sitting by the window alone.

As the clock strikes, competing fireworks will turn this night into day. Tonight's night, like the warm spring after the cold winter, makes countless "flowers" bend down.

Sitting alone by the window, staring at the glory that does not belong to the night, through this sky, I see another land. If you can choose, who would like to leave? If you can choose, who would like to walk away? If you can choose, who doesn't want to be reunited? I can adapt to the loneliness and habits of leaving home in different ways.

The only thing that cannot be changed is the spread of homesickness. Many people ask me, do you miss home? I said stubbornly, I don't want to.

But which child who leaves home doesn't want to go home? This bluff is only because of my inner humbleness. My home is far away, but I never admit that I left. Memory allows time travel.

On my way to school, I began to grow up in the bustling Yangcheng. I embraced this beautiful world with the purest heart. At that time, I didn't know what homesickness was, but I felt that the world was too big for me to see enough.

In a Chinese class, I always thought that the teacher who looked like a fairy used three words to describe migrant workers-"invaders". When I saw her standing on the podium and saying these three words with a smile, she glanced at me faintly with a strange look. When I saw her classmate's hissing with contempt, I just looked around blankly and didn't dare to look at anyone.

Buried his head deeply, tears fell on the book, silently. I don't know if those eyes are kind, but I only know that I have been frightened ever since.

At that time, I already knew that I should keep my sadness to myself, whether it was to wring my heart with a knife or to make my tears gush out. Since then, I have been homesick.

From then on, I always like to watch the moon by myself at the window, and make a wish to the moon and say "I want to go home", as if only the starry sky and night can take away my sadness. From then on, I began to get used to loneliness.

It seems that only when I return to my hometown will my deeply hurt self-esteem recover. Homesickness, which began to sprout at first, was the tears I shed when I was hiding under the covers.

My parents' work began to flourish, and I was too busy to take care of my young self. Because of this opportunity, I returned to my hometown for the first time, and I have been away for a long time. After a long journey by car, I finally fell into the arms of my mother. Even if it was snowing like petals and the cold wind was blowing, I felt that this hug made me warm and tears filled my eyes.

As soon as I stepped into this long-awaited homeland, I saw two old people waiting in the cold wind. The baptism of years and sufferings made their faces thin and sallow and their eyes dull, but when they saw me coming towards them, their eyes were full of tears, as bright as torches in the dark.

In the cold wind, the two old people looked so thin and haggard. Snowflakes and cold winds attacked them mercilessly, but their arms open to me were so broad and firm. I was held tightly in my arms, and the smell of tobacco spread in my nose. I was touched by my hand full of veins and calluses, and tears flowed on my face.

They kept saying "Jia Er" in my ear in the cold wind.

My dear. "

Calling my birth name repeatedly with unspeakable emotions. They always look at me with hot eyes, but I always avoid them. Such eyes are too spicy, but I don't know how to give back.

Love hurts to the bone, but I don't know how to express it, so I always take care of me carefully, afraid that I will be wronged and hurt a little. Even if I make a mistake, I will never be reluctant to scold. They will only look at me with a look I can't stand. Tears came down before I could speak. I stood by and watched two old people cry because of my mistake. I was at a loss. In this way, it was my grandparents who gave me that heavy love that people didn't know how to bear.

Six months later, my parents took me away. As the train started, the backs of two people who stood on the platform and waved goodbye to me with tears gradually disappeared from my sight. I buried my head in my mother's arms and secretly shed tears.

I can't forget, that hand full of veins stood out stroked me; Never forget those burning eyes full of love; I can't forget that kind call; I can't forget that affectionate connivance. I sat by the window with tears in my eyes. On this gorgeous night, are they staring at the distant stars now? Are you watching fireworks, too Are you thinking of me in the distance? Whether like me, tears wet my heart.

Time makes people learn tolerance and understanding, so time can make people grow. The past is like smoke, fleeting, only love lasts forever. Today's homesickness is the closest relative in the same month.

5. Imitate homesickness children's edition, imitate homesickness children's edition

Can we not talk about adults?

Homesick children's edition

When I was a child,

Homesickness is just a small stamp.

I'm at this end,

Mom is over there.

When I grow up,

Homesickness is mostly a narrow boat ticket.

I'm at this end,

The bride is over there.

Later,

Homesickness is not the pain of sadness,

I'm outside,

Who's in there?

now

Homesickness is a big lake,

I'm at this end,

You are over there.

-

Homesickness is a pain that stretches in the bottom of my heart.

Just like where you will go, whose love is between a man and an anonymous person;

Homesickness is a great emotion,

It occupies the deepest part of our hearts.

Homesickness stems from special memories of the past.

When the rain at night rings in my ears,

Homesickness will come to our spiritual depths as promised.

Because every time I come back,

So our homesickness is like a traveler coming out of Yangguan in the west.

Full of the aesthetic feeling of looking back suddenly.

I once thought about the innocence of homesickness,

But after a nursery rhyme and a story,

I can only grieve for the deconstruction of homesickness.

Homesickness is not getting farther and farther away from us,

Be transformed beyond recognition by modern things.

Real life is a material battlefield,

This is a contest between money and morality without smoke.

It is a refuge where homesickness is becoming unbearable.

The complete collapse of mental feelings,

Instrumentalism is invincible,

Is there a back garden for human beings to rest and relax in our time?

6. Homesickness Composition 450 words Homesickness is like smoke, homesickness is like a dream, and homesickness is a blue thread that is always tied to my heart. The birds are missing the old forest, and the fish in the pond are homesick. Wandering in the distance, can you have a little sadness in your heart? Is there a trace of concern in your hearts? Is there a faint homesickness in your hearts? "Being in a foreign land, I miss my relatives twice every festive season". Although it is not yet the Mid-Autumn Festival and far from the Lantern Festival, my yearning for the scenery, things and people in my hometown has been lingering in my heart for a long time. Homesickness is like smoke. Ran Ran floats in the hearts of people who travel far away, churns in their minds, wraps around them and stays at their feet. Homesickness is like smoke, drifting away with the wind. On a moonlit night, everything is silent. I leaned my head against the window and my tears were undercurrent. I look up at the moon and bow my head to homesickness. No matter in the bright moonlight or under the bright starlight, I have missed my hometown for a long time in my heart. I don't know how many nights I was awakened by the phone. How many nights, tears flow silently with sighs. Homesickness is like a dream, silently evoking the wanderer's yearning for his hometown, his concern for his family and his attachment to his old house. When I dreamed of returning to my hometown, the flowers were still in full bloom and the birds were still singing. I wonder if those people by the ancient road are still looking into the distance. Hometown, hometown, hometown that haunts me, when can I return to your arms? It is even more difficult to miss your hometown. A wanderer sends homesickness with wine, and trusts Du Kang with affection. Wine turns into homesick tears. In the dim candlelight, with tears and melancholy, they drank deep thoughts about their hometown. Homesickness is blue silk, always in their hearts. There are tears in my heart, but I only feel the kindness and warmth of my hometown. My hometown is far away. When will I go? Boat, dream hibiscus. Back to my hometown, with a long Artemisia, I drifted to my hometown with the river of my heart and wandered back to my hometown. The wanderer is still wandering, but he still can't go back to his hometown because his career is in all directions. They want to go back to their hometown on a boat full of splendor. Let's ring the bell of hope and look forward to meeting them in the splendid season. Hometown! Flowers will bloom, but will eventually wither; Birds can sing, but they will leave in the end; Only people on the ancient road, year after year, are waiting for your return ... come back, distant wanderer! Mother's wrinkles, father's white hair, a wisp, sentence by sentence, a voice, there is always a voice calling … Come back, my child! Come back! Come back, dear friend! "Hometown people are still here today, but they are still obsessed with it ..." Homesickness, especially a taste in my heart.

7. Homesickness is a 600-word childhood composition. The format of Yu Guangzhong's Homesickness is really puzzling for the feelings of his hometown.

There are neither lofty mountains nor vast lakes on that primitive mound. Just on a small plain, there are a few streams, trees and green crops scattered sporadically.

Apart from these, there is nothing worth mentioning, but these are just a few things, but they are thrown to the prodigal son who can't be left behind. Hometown doesn't care whether you are rich or poor, expensive or cheap.

The memory you gave her will always be the baby nestled in her arms. After drinking, she will always be the object of your lovesickness.

However, unconsciously, the original clear hometown will gradually blur, and it seems that an invisible hand tears the hometown hidden in my heart bit by bit, which makes my heart ache. This sudden change made me feel at a loss.

I know this is not because I have been away from home for a long time, not because the prosperity of the city has tired my eyes, nor because endless desires have disturbed my hometown. Everything else is not enough to destroy my hometown.

The disconsolate prodigal son, where should I go to find the answer? Is it the unrecognizable hometown that makes my homesickness impossible to verify? I vaguely remember that the sky blue water wall in my hometown is full of birds and flowers. In life, perhaps only childhood is as naive as homesickness.

Childhood is always happy, even if it is unpleasant, it is also a momentary thought; Although homesickness is called sadness, it is actually more of the inseparable love of childhood. When I was a child, I caught fish in a clear river, cicadas in a breezy forest, had a snowball fight on my way home, and often picked up ears of wheat in a scorching wheat field.

All kinds of situations emerged in front of me, finally stretching the long-locked eyebrows. Now, the river once played is filthy, and the black smelly water seems to overflow people's chests, which makes people panic.

Once a shady forest was propped up, but it gradually disappeared in people's endless demand. Now farmers will never pick up those insignificant ears of wheat in the hot sun.

The rapid development of agricultural machinery will not last long, giving farmers more time to transform this poor hometown. Her development is progress, but also a spiritual backwardness.

In the materialistic era, her hometown gradually lost its innocence. Today's children have no childhood of playing in the river, catching cicadas in the forest and picking their ears in the sun. But studying endlessly in an air-conditioned room.

Think about it, without naive play, when they are "snowy", what can make them look back on their childhood frequently? Everything in my hometown is unrecognizable because of ignorance, and it is a mess. Make my homesickness impossible to verify.

Water is no longer clear, trees are no longer green, only homesickness always appears! What can I do in the face of my hometown with clean surface and messy heart? Only close your eyes and look for your hometown in your dreams.

8. What is homesickness? Yu Guangzhong said "homesickness is a small stamp", "a narrow boat ticket", "a short grave" and "a shallow strait"

I asked my sister, what is homesickness? She smiled faintly. That's cherry blossoms. What a special metaphor.

Sit next to her and watch her draw on paper with a brush. It was quiet in the studio, and I gradually fell asleep. In my dream, there is a cherry blossom forest. I strolled along a path covered with petals, quietly listening to the sound of flowers, and occasionally a petal landed on my forehead or nose and jumped gently.

The afterglow of the sunset is lazily sprinkled on my body, blending with this soft picture to form a picture. When I woke up, I saw a cherry blossom forest, which was strikingly similar to the scene in my dream. My sister asked, "What kind of feeling?" "Happy."

Yes, happiness is the language of cherry blossoms, and happiness is my homesickness. "What?" "My hometown has my relatives and friends. How many times did I laugh there? Can't I feel happy from them? " It turns out that homesickness is not only melancholy and bitterness, but also happiness.

I asked my mother, what is homesickness? She thought for a moment and said, It's raining. "Why?" I asked.

She said: "When I was a child, I always used that small umbrella to watch, listen to and feel the rain. Some raindrops always hit my face unexpectedly, which is very cool. They waltzed lightly on my umbrella like fairies, and my heart kept spinning.

"How beautiful! I sighed. Because I was born on a rainy day in autumn, I have seen many interesting stories, anecdotes, poems and paintings about rain.

"When it rains, you just stay for a day …" "The phoenix tree is raining, and it drips at dusk …" and so on. There is also Yu Guangzhong's poem: "Look at the cold rain, listen to it, smell it and lick it."

How vivid it is. So I love the rain, but I have never really appreciated the rain and appreciated her gentleness.

"Do you think the tenderness of rain is homesickness?" No, what I love is the decisiveness when the rain sweeps the only dead leaves on the tree. When I fall into the hustle and bustle of the world, think about the cold rain in my hometown, and she will take me out of the mud and clear my innocence.

It turns out that homesickness is not only happiness, but also a warning. I asked my grandmother, what is homesickness? This is a stone mill.

Grandma looked at me and smiled. "My childhood memory is to make exquisite rice cakes with ground flour at the edge of a stone mill in exchange for my tuition."

"Are you homesick when you are busy?" "No, homesickness is a spur. It tells me that only by self-reliance can we achieve real happiness and peace. " It turns out that homesickness is not only a warning, but also an incentive.

If you ask me what homesickness is? I thought: homesickness is both melancholy and happiness, but also a warning and encouragement. Homesickness is a bright pearl carefully cared for by a pure land in your heart.

There is the truest you, the gentlest you and the strongest you. Homesickness is always the destination of your soul, from ancient times to the present.

In ancient times, there was Wang Wei's "leaning against the window in the future, opening its first cold flower?" There is also Du Fu's "Cong Ju tears another day, and boating alone is the heart of the family". Wanderers, go back and have a look. Where there are your roots, there are your haunted relatives.

Remember, your hometown is always waiting for you in the distance.

9. Homesickness Composition 500 words At dusk, a lonely figure stands in the middle of the overpass in the city. Looking at the crowds coming and going under the bridge and the endless stream of vehicles, a deep homesickness overflowed my heart, and my yearning mood was dragged on by the sunset in the west for a long time.

I used to hate my hometown so much because of its poverty, and I was so eager to leave my hometown because of its backwardness. Now, I am in this bustling metropolis, counting the high-rise buildings all over the street, but all I care about is my hometown, where there are mountains, water, grass and trees.

Looking back on the mountains and rivers of my hometown carefully, I found that I never paid attention to everything in my hometown and turned a blind eye to the beauty, purity and truth of my hometown. Fallen leaves will call for attachment to the wind and fall into the dust, and the soil will cherish its tears and breed new vitality in the mineral deposits.

Missing grows wildly in waiting, and the feelings of hometown spread in waiting. There are waves of Jin Lang in front of us, which is the mature charm of wheat seedlings.

Bowing their heads and listening to the heavy breathing of wheat seedlings in the field, listening to the wind rustling in the crops, the villagers were full of comfort and tranquility. When I was a child, I held hands with my sister to shoot birds by the wheat field, for fear that annoying sparrows would steal the fruits of my parents' labor.

The little sparrow saw me and ran away with a cry. I excitedly shook my sister's hand for the escaped sparrow, as if I had become a daughter who could help or be useful to my parents. The childish face is full of victory and pride, which makes people laugh at the autumn wind that is about to blow and comforts the vibrant wheat seedlings standing in the field.

The river in my hometown quietly has the tranquility of her years, and the grove by the river looks at the opposite river steadily. On the white and green banks, frogs and drums came from time to time. Dragonflies are dancing gently in the middle of the river, and when they walk down, they wake up the sleeping river.

Flocks of wild ducks are playing happily in the river. When I was a child, I took off my shoes and walked into the river, waiting for the small fish to be delivered to my door.

The little fish seems to be playing games with me, obviously by the river, but when I reach out, it has escaped to the depths of the river. I saw it sneaking out its round little head in the depths of the river, as if smiling proudly at me. I angrily picked up a lump of soil from the shore and threw it at the little fish, but except for a splash on the water, the little fish had already swam away.

I had to slouch back to the river bank, sigh and go home empty-handed. I miss my hometown. When I stare at the misty rain outside the window and listen to the beautiful and moving music, my heart is brought back to you.

I have touched the soul of the earth, and I know that I am now on the loess high slope in the eastern half of the earth. In the open space on the slope, I sat on the floor, and the wind blew past me, blowing away the dust on me and all my sadness and joy.

I began to meditate quietly, and an unusual idea came into my mind. I didn't feel it carefully when I was in the same place. That's because my heart has long been blown away by the breeze, but in retrospect, my heart is calm.

I miss my hometown. If my heart is a pigeon flying in my hometown, then my warm nest must be you-my hometown. Autumn is like water, spring is beautiful, the starry sky in winter night and the fiery summer are all my deep thoughts.

A tree, a piece of soil, a cloud, a fog, a gust of wind and a drop of rain in my hometown all appeared in front of my eyes. After a winding path, I came to the Woods by the river. I picked up a yellow leaf that fell to the ground.

Looking at this fallen leaf, I hid it in the drawer of years, waiting for a new opportunity. There is no trace of time in the high-rise buildings of the city, and it will go somewhere else sooner or later. The fallen leaves hidden in my hometown drawer, with traces of time slipping, have been hidden in my heart.

I haven't seen the scene of snowflakes flying for many years, and it won't snow in Shenzhen. My hometown is white on snowy days.

White roofs, white branches, white mountains and white ground. Standing in the white world, my heart is much purer.

When the wind blows, it blows the firewood in front of the door, and the twigs fluttering with the wind look thin in the cold wind. Rhubarb dog, the doorman, is too lazy to leave the nest. He just tilted his head and listened to the outside with keen ears.

People in the village no longer do farm work, but just stay at home leisurely. Crops in twos and threes, playing poker together.

The new wives get together and knit sweaters or embroidered insoles and mandarin duck pillowcases with wool in their hands. The naughty boy put a bamboo basket in the field, waiting for the sparrow to go in and catch it.

The autumn wind is rustling and the leaves are falling. I walked slowly on the streets of the city, missing with the wind. People in my hometown are very enthusiastic. Whenever I pass by the villagers' house, the villagers will always greet you warmly or pull you into the house to talk about your family.

Old people who have no young labor force at home, the young people in the village always help them take care of the crops in the field and fill them with water tanks. The villagers help each other and take care of each other with pure enthusiasm, without any attempts or distractions, and only come to you with a warm energy.

The metropolis at night is shrouded in mystery by neon lights in the distance, and everywhere is full of warm breath. Drunk young people walk by in twos and threes and don't forget to make fun of you.

The beautifully dressed girl shuttled through the bustling crowd, full of vitality. Think of that night in my hometown.

Where the stars shine and gather, the whole blue sky is fresher and brighter. Open the window, the moon hangs behind the willow tip, and the shadow of willow branches is reflected in the full moon.

The wind is blowing and people are walking in the moonlight. I tell her my heart quietly. The moonlight is thick tonight, so make a wish quickly, and let the breeze and bright moon bring my thoughts of my hometown to the yellow land where I was born and raised.