into the stream,
The stream is microwaved,
Bend it now and then,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
danced lightly,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
look around,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
Watching the outside world carefully,
Pieces of green in different shades,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
The flowers follow the breeze,
looming, smoky,
crystal clear,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
There is a bridge over the creek,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
sometimes lift it up,
like a paradise on earth,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
like a mirage,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
rter of an hour,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
Like patches of green misty ocean,