"Lake Selim".
Text: Cool roses.
A touch of crazy walking, rolling up the mountains and wild notes.
Qingqi Xiuling poetry couples, the time is in the holy lake.
"White Dew".
Text: Cool roses.
One night, the autumn breeze turned tender and cool, and the residual lotus rolled jade to remove red makeup.
Hibiscus slightly remembers the smoke of the stream, and the fragrance of ink is swaying.
"The Hawthorn Tree".
Wen Chunqiu. Lang Jun is waiting for Lang Jun under the white flower tree, and a spring song dreams into the clouds.
Qiuguo is now red, and the singing girl Xu is married?
"Mid-Autumn Festival".
Text Everest.
Cloth clothes for us and so on, the four seas for the home only for the lips.
is also a wanderer at the end of the world, how to talk about who is a poor person.
"Seven Absolute Autumn Rhymes".
Text: Yang Zhaobin-Xinya.
The golden wind and jade dew are cool overnight, and the lotus leaves in the shallow pond are like frost.
The shade of the green willows retreats, and the Moling camellia sends a dark fragrance.
"Sauvignon Blanc is coming".
Text Everest.
Mid-Autumn Festival, Mid-Autumn Festival, withered leaves fluttering rain harvest, the dynasty makes people sad.
Looking at Yangzhou, looking at Yangzhou, the cold moon is in a small building, and the wind blows white.
"Seven Absolute Wood Hibiscus".
Text: Small bridges and flowing water.
Mu Feng drinks dew to the sky, and the water comforts the makeup of Bairui poor.
Mo Dao has no bright colors in the cool autumn, and the light red flowers tease the deep red.
"Flowers in the rain make autumn just right".
Wen Dongcheng. The willow red is gone. The lotus root is just right.
The fallen leaves are scattered with autumn colors, and the chrysanthemums are noisy by the fence.
Sycamore perched magpie bird in the annex courtyard. The geese formed a formation, and there was no news of the letter.
Overlooking the polar eye, the distant mountains contain green daisies, and the peaks and mountains are full of smoke.
"Qiu Ju".
Text: Cool roses.
The stone bridge and flowing water sound in autumn, and the cold flowers in the stream are full again.
Live up to the frost and urge the late drunk, and the east fence is poetic.
"Autumn Colors".
Text: Zhang Jianping.
The autumn color is boundless Zen Monastery, and the West Lake is the end of the world in the east.
The cool breeze rises from Lingyundu, and the leaves fall through the flowers on the other side of the forest.
"Autumn Question".
Text: Zhang Jianping.
In the early morning, detour through the woods, the fruits are fresh in the apricot altar.
Guizi Fu Pei Feng Bridge is drunk, and the clouds are leaning on the geese and roaring high in the sky.
"Warbler Cry Preface, Late Spring Guest Feeling".
Text: Li Jiarong.
The sun was desolate and speechless.
The grass is far away, and the green is all over the south of the Yangtze River, evoking the emotion of parting.
It is still like a ruthless swallow, and the end of the world knows where it is.
Gazing towards the bridge, the sky is full of willows and flying flocculents.
Hanhai drifting, ten years of traces, tears full of spring breeze road.
The flowers are falling, the sun and the moon are urging, and the sub-rules are frequently persuaded to return.
Bo flat boat, dusk ferry, read Du Mu, Red Mansion poems.
The twilight embankment is flat, faint cold sand, two or three smoke trees.
Jiang drowned hatred, Wang Cang was in a mood, and he was sad when he wrote.
What is expected, the words are sad and cold, the words are short and long, and the time of one arrow is gloomy for eternity.
The traces of the swimming fish are broken, the shadow of the Zhenghong has passed, and the red note white is passed on.
The night is long, and the sky is condensed.
The Milky Way is bright, read a piece of dust, and read countless turmoil.
The sand village is quiet, the twilight is slightly cool, but the dream soul is difficult to stay.
But it is even more negative and young.
The eyes are remnant, the love is deep, and the sorrow is boundless.
Now lonely, you should ask when you meet, and think about the past.
Laugh at it, don't be the master of smoke waves.
Ascending the building to the south, there is a sad person, and he is still in custody.
"The First Branch of the East Wind, Early Spring Feelings".
Text: Li Jiarong.
The willow eyes are light, the peach heart is dark, and the cold is still shallow in spring.
Attentive half rolled heavy curtains, afraid of returning to Shuangyan by mistake.
Independent by the railing, unaccustomed to listening, the sound of the warbler is delicate.
I also recall that there are thousands of things in the past, but unfortunately everything has changed.
It's not, the dream soul is lazy. It's not, and the feeling is stuffy.
I am afraid that if I add a wisp of lovesickness, it will be a mess of spring.
When the flowers fall, the road is endless, and the begonias are resentful.
Wandering longing, ten miles of green mountains, who to meet charmingly.
"Huanxi Sha is already losing".
Text: Li Jiarong.
It is already a loss to count the floating life, and there is a way back in the world. The wine is warm and warm.
The guest has been frustrated for ten years, and the heart is like a pearl. The distant mountains are lonely.
"Water Tune Song Head, Twilight Spring Day Passes Mrs. Xian's Hometown".
Text: Li Jiarong.
The birds are crying in spring, and the light rain is passing over the mountains.
The old scenery, so the flowers and trees make people sad.
Listen to the flowing water of the spring, look up to the layers of the forest dripping green, and the desert smoke floats at night.
A thousand years later, I look back and think about it.
The feelings are good, the reputation is prosperous, and Kyushu is moved.
Three dynasties merits, the first woman is the most romantic.
Writing Dongpo poems, remembering Zhou Gong's praise, may not be inferior to Cao Liu.
Only kindness can be exchanged for a lifetime of rest.
"Seven Absolute Autumn Qing".
Wen Jiangbo (Sichuan).
In the early autumn, the tea was used as wine, and the wild fish was fat and red.
Suddenly the moon on the thousand-year-old window, the heart is the same as the sound of the jade flute.
"Seven Absolute Sighs Wenjun".
Wen Jiangbo (Sichuan).
Wenjun's wine is full of rhyme, and the sunset door hates to sleep alone.
The national color is not wrong in the end, why ask for drunken ink to please people?
"Seven Absolute Swings".
Wen Jiangbo (Sichuan).
The swing is a flower body, and the frolicking image is new.
The dancing posture is close to the style, and the hesitant bird is quiet.
"Seven Uniques Over the Fortune Village of Hexi".
Wen Jiangbo (Sichuan).
The wind and dust gradually grew on the sideburns, and I couldn't understand the song of the yellow oriole on the shore.
The drizzle is easy to fade after the autumn tea, and every family is full of bamboo forests.
"Seven Absolute Butterfly Love".
Wen Jiangbo (Sichuan).
The sound of the piano is cut into powder makeup, and the jade dew is born through the tide and the sea and the moon.
Butterflies look at the clouds and dream of rain, and acacia sleeps until dawn.
"Qingping Le Xi Pick".
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
In the shadow of dusk, pick up the afterglow.
Warm and bright mood dehumidification, just take the wind express.
The south of the Yangtze River has been covered with autumn cold, and chrysanthemums are inevitably lonely.
Thinking about it, whether the end of the world is safe.
"Qingpingle Climbs to the Top of Haikou Landmark Building".
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
Gordon Tower, no longer afraid of the air.
The floor-to-ceiling glass cloud can be painted, and Haikou obediently underfoot.
Thousands of lights flow, and the heart of poetry suddenly becomes a fish.
A plane flew by, and the nostalgia rose and fell.
"Green Apricot Gift An'an".
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
The lights have been flowered, and under the shadow of the lights, squinting and wearing yarn.
A year of embroidery needle grinding, busy in the morning, busy in the dark, tired of the Qing family.
Today, I am sleepy in the world, looking at the hometown garden, full of dust and sand.
Wipe away the silent tears, whether there is wind or no wind, you have to add clothes.
Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life.