I Miss You Prose Poetry 1

In the park, beside the creek, under the weeping willows, the breeze blows,

Lan'er set up a barbecue grill,

Shuoer lit the charcoal fire,

Xinyi opened the bacon bag,

Chener took out the potato chips,

Rich man Wang skewered tofu rolls, as well as enoki mushrooms and lettuce.

Qing'er unscrewed the lid of the drink,

Jing'er arranged the cups one by one,

Shuanglu was busy running around again.

　/

Look,

The charcoal fire is turning red,

The rich man turned over the bacon,

Shuoer spread the condiments,

The aroma spread,

The friends gathered together,

Tuhao Wang simply sat on the ground,

Cool and cute.

Xinyi came with a drink,

Qing'er quickly rolled up the lettuce,

Jing'er hurriedly handed over the bacon,

Shuo'er picked up potato slices,

Shuanglu picked up the tofu rolls,

Chen'er looked very handsome when eating them,

Lan'er took pictures at the side,

Tuhao Wang also didn’t forget to show off his style.

Everyone, you let me come and I let you,

It’s so fun and comfortable.

　/

Taste the delicious food and enjoy the beautiful scenery,

Come and take a photo,

Let your time fly by,

In the setting sun,

Our laughter is rippling. I Miss You Prose Poetry 2

Dear...

Huh?

Miss me?

In this quiet night, ask this question?

Because I miss you.

Do you still remember my dream?

Oh, remember.

So, what should we do now?

I think we should be on a certain mountaintop, facing the wind and looking at the moon.

It should be a bit cool at night, and we all wore thick coats, so we looked very smart. Jackets have this effect.

Oh, yes.

Prepare two ounces of wine and drink slowly together, okay?

Haha, okay.

Baby, I think my novels don’t have plots above third base.

It’s better to go on a full moon night.

Now I know why you are always so hesitant.

How many third-base and above plots are included in those hesitant words? Hahaha.

No, I...

Dialogue is really redundant sometimes, isn't it?

Haha. I Miss You Prose Poetry 3

When I was a child, my father took my brother and me to pay homage to our ancestors and add soil to our ancestors every Qingming Festival.

We have never seen the grandparents in the cemetery. We are like spectators.

We laugh and play in the cemetery in the wheat field; the father's sorrow is only the spring breeze. You know,

Tomb Sweeping Day has nothing to do with us and is far away!

--

When I grew up, I flew away from home like a spring swallow, and Tomb-Sweeping Day seemed to become a

celebration of spring. Happy holidays. Until my father died of illness, Tomb-Sweeping Day became my father’s festival.

Walking to the green cemetery, my father’s grave was quiet and lonely.

The raindrops ripple on the spring swing, and my father’s grave standing in the wheat field seems to be waiting for someone;

It is the tears and the rain that blur my eyes, and my father is already separated from us. !

--

Suddenly I saw my father coming towards me. He was walking in front of me, so I turned around and chased him.

He did not allow me to pass him; I counted the tombs of my ancestors in detail. Each tomb is a home.

They guard the wheat fields, guard the offspring like wheat seedlings, guard the past and present lives walking around;

Family ties and blood, in every festival when willows turn green. I look forward to my descendants adding a new layer of soil to every tomb!

　--

I stopped in the Qingming rain, and my father’s tomb was wetted by the rain in time, and also wetted my heart;

A pack of apricot petals brought by the spring breeze gently scattered on the cemetery. On my father's grave, I sighed in a low voice: Father, I miss you!

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