Hua composition 400
doubt
I vaguely remember that my grades were not good when I was a child, hovering in the countdown. But in a test, I played beyond the normal level and entered the forefront of the class. Even I feel incredible. The excitement and joy of not getting your own test paper. I have never been confident, but I know that I got that proud result by staying up late to study the night before the exam. Although the students around me are whispering, every word clearly falls into my ears.
"Why did he suddenly do so well in the exam?" A person who has a good relationship with me at ordinary times buried his face in the test paper and whispered with his deskmate.
"Who knows, I guess I copied someone else's answer ..." Another person seemed to glance at me.
Every word of these words touched me deeply.
I was numb in my seat during the whole class. I feel that my good friend is far away from me, and there are incredible things in the teacher's eyes. I'm not crying, I just feel wronged. Why do I need you to decide the result I got with my own efforts?
My mother woke me up the next morning, and I refused to live or die. I don't have the courage to face the bad eyes of my classmates. My parents were busy at work. Seeing me like this, they simply called the teacher to take a day off and sent me to my grandmother's house.
Dispel fog
My parents sent me to grandma's door and hurried to work. I froze and looked at this familiar and strange old house in situ. With the creaking of the door, I saw a clean old man, my grandmother. Her hair is still neatly combed as before, but her temples and corners of her eyes have shown signs of years. When he saw me, he shouted, "There you are!" In the clear voice in my memory. I nodded and went into the room. She went into the backyard garden by herself and I followed her.
She was lying in a rocking chair under the tree, rocking the chair slowly.
She ignored me and just lay in a rocking chair. I wandered in the garden, but my eyes were attracted by a pot of flowers. White and pure. And this smell. My eyes never left. I shouted, "Grandma, what is this flower?" Grandma raised her eyebrows, glanced here and whispered, "Narcissus".
Oh, this flower is daffodil.
"Narcissus is like garlic before it blooms, which is plain. It doesn't choose to open in rainy and sunny summer. It blooms silently in early winter, just to leave its humble little white figure in people's eyes. They will not avoid the difficulties in life, they will always be optimistic. Finally, it exudes fragrance. "
I nodded thoughtfully.
very good
Later, I went to school with my schoolbag on my back. I looked at the daffodils brought back from my grandmother's house for a long time before going to school. Finally, the corners of the mouth rose and stepped out of the house.
Narcissus taught me that it is not the tenacious vitality of a flower that breaks through the ground, but the optimism and strength in treating the baptism of wind and rain; What that smog taught me was not the courage to face setbacks, but a smile.
Say it's flowers, not flowers, say it's fog? Not fog.
My composition about after-school life.
300 words.
Write the same thing
I have heard such a saying in my after-school life since I was a child: "The book has its own golden house, and the book has its own Yan Ruyu.
"I thought that when I opened the book, there would be a falling jade.
So I pestered my mother to buy me books.
It was not until I opened the first book that I found myself stupid, because there was nothing I wanted at all.
But I ate the book alone. It took me a long time to find out that I fell in love with this book and liked to smell the faint ink.
Perhaps from this point on, books have become an indispensable part of my after-school life.
The clock is ticking, the midnight wind is blowing gently, and I cover the bed and turn over Hemingway's work: The Old Man and the Sea.
A simple story, an ordinary old man and an ordinary marlin, had a seemingly ordinary and extraordinary experience in the vast sea.
In this tragic story (Zhong), there is a "hero"-the old man Santiago.
My heart was shocked when the old man dragged the trophy to fight with the shark.
People must not be defeated! This concise words, I seem to hear the voice of the old man fighting the waves of the sea ... Seeing this, I stopped and looked at the mountains of exercise books on the table, and the level was still waiting for me to crack.
But I gave up. I surrendered to them and was defeated by them.
Don't! It shouldn't be like this! People must not be defeated! At this time, I am back to my old self, so full of energy.
I got out of bed and sat at the table.
A small yellow light lit up all the topics and also lit up the light in my heart ... The lingering smell in the book made me feel unspeakable.
Every time I pick up a book, the taste changes.
Every book has its own language.
Romance of the Three Kingdoms is full of the scent of the battlefield, full of lofty sentiments, and is the breath of the battlefield.
"Stars" are the breath of loving mothers. Grandma Bing Xin's yearning for her mother reminds me of "Wandering Son": the thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for her wayward son ... "The book has its own golden house, and the book has its own Yan Ruyu.
"Books have brought me sunny days full of vigor and vitality, and books have brought me jubilant celebrations ... books have enriched my after-school life and enriched my every day!
The composition about' light' contains bubbles.
With the popularity of "I am a singer" on TV, G.E.M., a female star, promoted herself to all corners of the country with a song "Bubble" ...-I sat in front of the TV and turned it off.
It was so quiet that only the noise of the lights was left. I looked around and sighed.
Bubble seems to exist only in my childhood, just like the lyrics in the song-so fragile. Bubbles that break at the touch of a button are beautiful in front of me, but they also have their own charm that people can't bear to play with, but they are awe-inspiring.
Historically speaking, at the beginning of the creation of the world, like chaos, after the creation of the world by Pangu, human beings came into being, but this was taken from myth, and it is unknown whether it is true or not.
I want to say that the beginning of life originated from bubbles. Although it gave birth to lightning, thunder and downpour, it invisibly covered the whole world and all primitive life with a protective film. It is fragile but strong, seemingly fragile, but it is so important and special.
When people use bubbles to compare love; When did people release the bubble to the power of money? At that time, people regard bubbles as eternity.
Eternity, what kind of things will last forever? Pick up the sadness all over the place, will this winter fade with the madness of my heart? Like a bubble, it rises beautifully and aimlessly, but it can't stand the push and pull of the wind, turns into a halo and falls to the ground in circles.
If you ask me what is the most beautiful, I will say it is a bubble. This little bubble is a string of bubbles, with countless childhood, countless time, countless joys and sorrows. It is said that it can only be seen from a distance like a lotus, and how many people play with it in applause? As everyone knows, its purity is actually a kind of beauty that people can't blaspheme. It has no specific shape, and it bears everything like water, and it is indisputable and not angry. If you insist,
Bubble, a solemnity that people can't ignore.
A fleeting beauty, an intangible but concrete beauty, is exactly the same as the artistic conception described in Bai Juyi's Flowers Are Not Flowers. I wonder, if Bai Juyi sees this illusory and fleeting bubble, does this poem still have its place?
If so, how to arrange it? Will the poet make room for it, just praise and chant for it? Temple outside the mountain, ringing morning bell.
Burning incense, chanting Sanskrit, frustrated wooden fish.
Villages in the mountains, crowing cocks, smoke from cooking stoves, tossing and turning stone mills, dancing bubbles ... At this moment, my heart was put away, the lights were still noisy, but the silence was calm. ...
Look back at the 600-word composition on that road.
Looking back on the old road, I sat on the new grass next to you, especially remembering that the sky was always as clean and clear as the sea. You asked me gently, what is forever? I buried my head in my knee. For a long time, I seemed to understand and looked up at the sky. I smiled and said that it may be as long as a lifetime. I always stubbornly say forever, forever, forever. But this life is over. The world itself has no eternity, and those so-called eternities are just a mirage. My smiling face is secretly sad. The boiling liquid in the cup gradually cools after adding ice cubes, and the ice cubes gently hook the handle of the cup with their little fingers, and the ice cubes hit the cup wall and make a crisp sound. The shrill cry of Western jackdaw in the west didn't break the silence in the middle of the night. Eyes slightly turn, suddenly back to reality. The infinite night is sad again. A drop of slightly blue pearl landed right between her fingers. I was painted the color of night. I looked down at the lifeless cup and smiled helplessly-how did I remember that it was a long time ago ... it was windy again unconsciously. The moonlight wind blew into my window and blew the pages away. I turned my head and saw the back page of the book, and word by word blurred my eyes: "We continue to struggle forward and swim against the current, and we keep going backwards." What is a sad autumn wind painting fan? More than 500 days and nights passed, and I stopped silently and looked back. The romantic mirror was already different. In retrospect, it turned out to be a flower, a fog, a fog. More than 500 days and nights have passed, and I am the only one guarding this bustling dream.
My idea of Qiong Yao's high school composition
Qiong Yao in my mind suddenly turned around and just wanted to recall Qiong Yao, a great romantic writer in my mind.
As far as the great writer Qiong Yao is concerned, I am just one of her millions of fans in Qian Qian. I have watched many of her film and television dramas. In the early days, Brigitte Lin starred in Out of the Window, Six Dreams, Clouds Chasing the Moon, Heart and Qian Qian Knot, Deep Courtyard, Curtain of Dreams, Grass by the Green River, and Three Lane of Plum Blossoms.
Today, I still clearly remember that I didn't think of the rice and fragrance of Qiong Yao opera tea that was troubled by dreams. I wait for TV every day and two or three episodes of updates every night, ignorant heart, ignorant love, ignorant girl heart.
But now I seldom watch Qiong Yao's film and television dramas, and even the popular "flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog" has not been seen well. There is no reason, but my mood has changed. With the growth and maturity of my age, I will no longer believe in the romantic and beautiful love stories that are too perfect and ideal in the play.
Baidu Qiong Yao's personal data only revealed that Qiong Yao's real name was Chen Zhe, born on April 20, 1938/kloc-0, ten days before her 76th birthday. Looking at her photos, Qiong Yao is still so beautiful and charming. I think Qiong Yao in life must be a person who pursues perfection very much and has noble love. Her life must be happy, and every play comes from her hands.
Qiong Yao has her unique vision in choosing actors. The heroine in every film and television drama is full of aura, beautiful and charming. Every hero is gentle, kind and wise.
And every actor she chooses will make a splash, and her beauty will be famous all over the world. Among the actresses, there are beautiful and devoted actresses, such as Vivian Yu, a classical beauty, Zhao Wei, a big-eyed elf, Rebecca, who is smiling and everyone loves her, and Jin Ming, a childhood friend. Among the actors are Qin and Han Dynasties, Liu Dekai, Ma Jingtao, known as the "Roaring Emperor", Xu Nailin, Ku Kuiqi, and Alec Su. Too many, too many to count, especially the remake of Princess Pearl and the new drama Flowers are not flowers or fog. Every work of Qiong Yao is a classic, which is deeply rooted in people's hearts and is really unforgettable after reading it.
From the 1970s to the present, it is the essence of every article and the quality of every department.
Recently, the online report that Qiong Yao was plagiarized and fell ill attracted many netizens to discuss it.
Qiong Yao and Zheng Yu are both screenwriters who abuse their own minds, but Qiong Yao abuses their minds more than JUNG WOO. Watching her film and television plays shed a lot of affectionate tears for the delicate plots and touching love stories in her plays.
After all, JUNG WOO is a male screenwriter. Although watching his film and television dramas didn't shed many bitter tears, he didn't want to give up from the beginning. Look down, that's flattering! For example, The Legend of Luzhen, Gongdou Opera Series.
Qiong Yao's works are unique classics in the world and no one can copy or imitate them. The audience has diverse tastes, and they can watch whoever they like.
As for me, both of us like to see our own works. I can constantly change my taste, just like cooking and eating vegetables. Always change your taste, taste better and feel better! Finally, I wish Aunt Qiong Yao health and happiness forever! I hope to see new creations! You will always be Qiong Yao in my heart, and I will always be your loyal fan!
Hometown celebrity composition 600 words
When hometown celebrities talk about celebrities, students will definitely think of those war heroes, model workers, writers, painters, entrepreneurs, scientists, singers, movie stars and so on.
In fact, 360 lines, each line is the best.
Today I want to talk about my grandma.
Grandma is in her sixties and is not tall.
The face is covered with wrinkles, and the wrinkles are deeper when you smile.
Although grandma is not outstanding, all her brooms are beautiful.
Grandma will plant broom seedlings to tie brooms every year, because there are always some people who ask her for help every year.
Some people also want to learn, and grandma will not hesitate to teach her until she finishes teaching.
Having said that, some people may ask, "Who did your grandmother learn this craft from?" In fact, grandma didn't learn this craft from anyone, but watched others tie it. She is also very curious and goes home to teach herself.
Later, I gradually learned.
Actually, it's not difficult to make a broom.
First, dry the broom seedlings, remove the seeds, then peel off its skin, hammer the poles open with a hammer, and then tie them with a rope to make a broom.
But be careful, be sure to tie it tightly, otherwise it will be easy to disperse.
Once, I chatted with my grandmother.
I had a whim and asked, "Grandma, did you encounter any difficulties when you first learned to tie a broom?" Grandma said, "Yes.
"I said," then tell me about it.
"Grandma said," good.
One day, I was tying a broom. Suddenly, when I was combing the pole with something, a nail on the pole came loose.
I cut my hand while combing my hair.
"I said," Have you ever thought about not learning? " Grandma said, "What is this little difficulty? I never wanted to be with Ben.
"I said," Oh.
"All of a sudden, I really admire grandma.
This is the "celebrity" in my hometown-grandma.
How to write a composition about Black Dragon Pool Scenic Area?
On the way to school again, I chatted with my classmates about the recent spring outing organized by the school, and I heard that I was going to Black Dragon Pool.
This classmate said.
Black Dragon Pool, I have been there several times. It looks good.
I answered in the affirmative.
Sure enough, the school is scheduled to go to Black Dragon Pool, but I didn't expect this day to come so quickly.
We took a bus to Heilongtan at 6 o'clock in the morning. It was raining in Mao Mao, and it was foggy because it was morning.
Looking through the window, I can only see something in a daze, I don't know if it is a person or a road sign. It's really a little foggy.
It was 1 1 when we arrived at Heilongtan, and the fog had already dispersed.
After getting off the bus, we immediately ran around with legs numb, while I walked towards the deepest part of the Black Dragon Pool-Jingxin Lake.
I have been here several times before, but I have never been there. I must go this time.
I must go through a forest to the Lake of Tranquility. I walked on the forest path, heard all kinds of voices and saw all kinds of things.
Larks sing happily, ... take in homeless birds, see all kinds of things, and it's raining in Mao Mao. I'm walking on a path in the forest. How can I be my father: get up quickly, the school is scheduled to go to Black Dragon Pool, but I am heading for the deepest part of Black Dragon Pool-Jingxin Lake. Recently, I talked with my classmates about the spring outing organized by the school. Didn't you say I was going to Black Dragon Pool today? I heard I'm going to Black Dragon Pool.
Some people fish to realize their dreams.
Sure enough.
I answered positively; The nightingale shows her voice to other birds. I must go this time.
Through the window, it flows into the lake in its heart, which is quite good.
I've been here several times before.
This is a fairyland on earth. It's already 1 1 am. It turns out that the forest is not the best. A pair of big hands woke me up and I heard all kinds of voices.
Students say there are tourists playing by the lake? Don't be late, this is the king.
After getting off the bus.
Larks are singing happily.
When I arrived at Black Dragon Pool, I had never been there. I don't know if it's a person or a street sign.
Black Dragon Pool, I have been there several times. We ran around when our legs were numb. It was foggy and we could only look at things in a daze.
Just when I was immersed in this fairyland on earth, I didn't expect this day to come so quickly. I found it was blue.
Ah.
At 6 o'clock in the morning, we went to Heilongtan by bus.
Dad said.
White swans are wandering on the lake.
When I arrived at Jingxin Lake, its sparkling eyes stood out from the crowd, and because it was morning, all the best things were here, as if welcoming my first visitor. Looking around, the fog has already dispersed and the flowers are not flowers. The ancient pagoda tree curled up.
You have to go through a forest to get to the Lake of Tranquility.
That tall towering tree; The stream is swift and the water is red.
What a beautiful fairyland on earth.
God, I can't believe I have the function of predicting the future, and then on my way to school.
Ask for a composition about lavender.
It's urgent ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
What attracted me to lavender at first was the power of fragrance.
The blue-purple incense sticks are released quietly until they are burned out.
The blue and white smoke spiraled up, and I looked at it gently through the lingering smoke. Those smoke shadows that keep rising and disappearing immediately become concrete and vague images, white horses flying out of thin air, flying bodhisattvas with fluttering sleeves, graceful and affectionate fingertips ... Everything is slowly disillusioned in the excellent tour, leaving a fragrance.
Lavender often burns alone.
The smell of all the newly sawed sawdust, mixed with a little smell of camphor and mint, emitted thinly, immediately surrounded the whole space, and the invisible power awakened the sleeping soul. It is covered with light feather gauze, flying and flying to the place where beauty lies.
Later, I actually owned two potted lavender plants.
Two different kinds of lavender.
A gorgeous and naive one, and a lavender with a hidden bone.
Lavender mint and lavender are sweet.
The delicate, too light to touch, purple and blue flowers are dreamy and mysterious, as if from another country.
Or, flowers in the moonlight.
They grow quietly and poetically, live in front of French windows, are lovingly touched by the sun, and shed the shadow of a bunch of hazy flowers.
It is said that flowers and plants have a silent nature and get along for a long time.
Waiting for flowers to bloom is a beautiful thing.
Just wet its soil with a little water and move out the plants that like light when the sun is shining.
Then, I woke up in an ordinary morning, and the pot called mint lavender bloomed.
The fairies stained with dew are thriving, like flowers, like grass. There are smoke purple buds with cobalt blue on the branches, and purple petals as warm as light wings are exposed outside, which are soft and slightly reddish and dusty.
There are countless tiny black spots printed on it, and each flower is a charming face with a hint of witchcraft, like hiding some sweet plot. From the flowers, you can see a beautiful and lonely soul, walking slowly in past lives.
Clusters of purple-blue flames instantly sting your heart and burn your eyes ... I met a poem full of lavender.
It is an irresistible natural law that flowering also means the decline of life.
These two pots of lavender have always maintained an upward posture, and in a few days, the flower stems have taken away a lot at an unexpected speed.
On successive rainy days, lavender drooped a few flowers, thinking that it would be silent and placed in a corner of the balcony.
After the spring rain, it is bright and warm sunshine. Inadvertently, I found that purple-blue flowers appeared on the stems of the flowers, which were more calm and distant than the original colors, showing a rich and mature texture. Those struggling lives and souls are as beautiful as poetry.
My sensitive nose also smelled the smell mixed with medicinal incense, which was deja vu-the smell from incense! However, it is natural, if there is a faint fragrance.
It is grass that heals people.
A pot of lavender that opens silently can soothe the soul.
I gradually learned about lavender.
A kind of lavender has a unique fragrance, and mint has a little spicy taste of camphor, which is extremely sweet.
There are many invisible oil glands hidden in its leaves and flowers, which will give off fragrance when touched.
The tired spirit is stretched and enriched in the flowers.
Lavender has a strong vitality, and people affectionately call it "the herb of the poor".
Perhaps it is an elf who accidentally fell into the mortal world and was punished by God as a form of vegetation, but secretly preserved precious fragrance and graceful flowers, waiting for simple and kind people.
In the distant Provence, purple romance is in full bloom.
Lavender fields covered with purple mist have been growing for more than a century.
A little bit of broken purple slowly merged into a purple river, with blue in the purple, woven into a dream dress.
Connected with it are mild weather, lush distant mountains, quiet rivers, and occasionally one or two white clouds floating on the tile blue, just like the impressionist scenery and the natural rhythm in Cezanne's paintings.
Early summer is a festival in Provence, and the whole mountain is stained with purple clouds. In addition to flowers, it is fragrant, a pure romance and poetry. It was a mysterious dream, a fairy tale kingdom lit by lavender.
If you can walk barefoot in the lavender field and the warm wind caresses your cheeks, the fragrance of flowers in the wind will pass through the power of time and space, which will be deeply remembered.
The life of vanilla is poetic.
In fact, vegetation has a soul and has its own unique flower language. Lavender is also called "love grass", and its flower language is a miracle waiting for love.
Spike purple and blue flowers are full of love sadness.
Legend has it that there lived a young girl in a quiet valley. When she came back from picking flowers, she met an injured blue and purple young man. The kind girl left the young man at home to heal.
The magical lavender scented tea cured the young people. They were deeply in love and could not leave each other ... So the girl and the young people went to their hometown full of roses. The oldest old man in the village gave the persistent girl a bunch of lavender flowers before she left, telling her that the fragrance of lavender would make unclean things appear, so as to test the sincerity of young people ... On the morning of the trip, the lavender in the valley swayed with the wind. The girl followed the old man's words and threw a bunch of lavender on the young man. A burst of purple smoke rose, and the young man disappeared, leaving only one sentence: "In fact, I am your heart that wants to travel far away …" Soon, the girl who picked flowers disappeared from the valley.
Clusters of lavender are more enthusiastic, firm and brave.
Some people say that she turned into a wisp of smoke with her youth, looking for a hometown full of roses; But some people say that lavender wraps a girl's persistent love soul, and she will always wait in the valley where she first met, waiting for the miracle of love … I like lavender.
How many earthly flowers can bloom beautifully with the body, soothe the soul with fragrance, and wait for the miracle of love with persistence.
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