It bleated, and the crow changed lanes in mid-air, watching in amazement through the thistle on the wall. How I wanted to get on my knees and keep my eyes lower.
One day I drove the sheep to the sky, and the sheep and the clouds ran happily, and I stared at them for a long time, but I still couldn't tell who was the sheep and who was the cloud.
The cloud was pushed by the wind and ran, and accidentally, rolled over, and fell out of a small sheep, and the sheep were grazing on the edge of the sky, and when they looked up, there was a mirror above their heads, reflecting their appearance.
Does Sean want to?We are lambs, jumping over the hillside and the pasture, raising our throats and laughing, spreading our legs to run, and being lively is our proposition.
In addition to being lively, it seems to be particularly naughty. We are sheep herded by time, buried in our lives, forgetting to look up at the clouds.
When looking at the cloud, do you lose sight of time?Around the winter, the lamb and the shepherd boy meet, the song is aimed at the heart, the cherry tree dances in the rain, looking back on the heart, Namida tells the steadfastness of the cross street, time stands still here, to tell you one thing, love is eternal, because love is you.
The psalmist says that I have never kept sheep, but I do seem to have tended them. My heart is like a shepherd, it is familiar with the wind and the sun, and the seasons go hand in hand, follow and **.
The colors that are layered and smeared, in the nib of the pen and in childhood, are colorful, thick or light.