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