sometimes lift it up,
into the stream,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The stream is microwaved,
look around,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
Pieces of green in different shades,
like a mirage,
looming, smoky,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
Watching the outside world carefully,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
crystal clear,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
like a paradise on earth,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
There is a bridge over the creek,
danced lightly,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
Bend it now and then,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly
As if singing the symphony of spring,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
The flowers follow the breeze,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,