Middle school students excellent composition appreciation: kapok open

2022-06-24 0 By

Kapok opened a beam of gold light on the flower, I looked, shining golden red dazzling.The five-petal golden red “man” was bent, as if to bow to the people.The five-star light shines like fire, warm and deep!”Don’t look, it’s for your soup.”Grandpa’s words interrupted my eyes.Left the balcony of my eyes, fixed in a full of wrinkles on the face.”Are we going to cook them?”I asked curiously.Grandpa looked at the shining red star. “Take your time. It’s drying out, not so fast.”Grandpa played with the kapok, re-placed on the ground, so that they can accept the sun, stretching its original rich body, flashing the most dazzling light.”Will they die?Save one of these beautiful flowers for me.”I asked, staring out the window at the kapok.Grandpa got up slowly, picked up one of the reddest and fullest flowers, walked straight to it, held out his old hand, looked at the kapok, and looked at it carefully. “Not yet, not yet.The flower is hard. How could it die so quickly?”Grandpa paused. “That’s death,” he said. “It’s useful.”Grandpa’s eyes glistened. “This is the best one. Here you go.Grandpa’s rough hand on my hand, there is an uncomfortable, too cold.The moist kapok, in my hands, lies quietly…I put kapok on the bed, a few days, the flower has a little haggard, the past red oozing with a bit of light yellow, like a patient on the verge of death.”Soup is ready.”Grandpa greeted me and carefully placed the pot on the table. He lifted the lid and the heat rose.The pot is still spitting white air, grandpa holding a spoon in one hand, holding a bowl, the spoon comfortably rolled several laps in the soup, a spoon of soup like a waterfall, poured into the bowl.Grandpa immediately pushed the bowl in front of me, and the dried kapok floated in it, soft and moist and warm.”Drink it while it’s hot.”Grandpa’s cloudy eyes stared at the kapok in the soup.”You can pick up the kapok next year when it opens.”Then, the kapok outside the door was blown by the wind a few bundles, BUT I did not understand grandpa’s words.When the kapok was gone, grandpa went home.I still remember when he left, he looked at the bouquet of kapok for me, the flowers had no luster at that time, petals yan, like moaning what.”Throw it away.”Grandpa’s wrinkled lips moved lightly.When they left, Grandpa bent over, holding the withered kapok bundle, his figure gradually blurred.Instead of grandpa coming back, I went to see him.He lay there, peaceful, just as he remembered, but his cloudy eyes did not open again.The head of the bed is the dry kapok, do not look carefully can not distinguish…Another spring, kapok opened again, shining in the sun, as always bright, I reached out to pick up a full, simple, but the lack of a bent old man…Falling red is not heartless things, into the spring mud more protection!Thirty lessons teach you to create high score composition (video class) the sea teacher speaks composition 199 yuan to buy a column