Life without books is like the earth without sunshine; birds without wings. Next is a bookmark composition of 700 words brought to you by a bunch of green grass. Let’s take a look.
Part 1: A bookmark
I like that bookmark.
It has a clean and elegant background, white with a touch of pink. A small Chinese knot is strung on a thin string, passing through a hole the size of a rice grain.
It was it that led me to encounter poetry and books.
"Chun Mian doesn't know..." I held a small book in my chubby little hands, and I squeezed out a few crooked words through my teeth. The childish pronunciation in the vagueness must make people laugh. And it was lying quietly on the side, with the sunlight outside the window pouring in generously. There was a shimmering light on its body, like a pair of bright pupils, looking expectantly at me who was reading the poem seriously.
Read an exquisite little poem every day, and its home will keep changing page by page, and the days will pass by page by page in the faint fragrance of poetry.
It was it that led me to meet characters with distinctive and unique personalities.
When I came into contact with the novel for the first time, my eyes were glued to it, my thoughts were uncontrollable, and I slowly walked into each story. I met Zhuge Liang, who knew things like a god, and showed a victorious smile in the whistling east wind; I met the brother and sister Bronze and Sunflower, and the scene of the brother carrying his sister in the crowd to watch the theater warmed my heart; I met Hao Sijia, who is strong and brave, dares to love and hate, and will never give up no matter in the face of love, war or suffering. Shrink... Since the day it was inserted into the novel, it has started a long journey in the ups and downs of the story. It seems that it has witnessed all the joys and sorrows, life and death long before me, leading my thoughts to wander freely in the undulating ocean of literature, and looking for inspiring wisdom, emotion and courage.
It is it that leads me to meet the colorful youth.
What is youth? The energetic smile in the sun is part of her, the silent tears falling in the dark night are also part of her; the proud shouts on the podium are part of her, and the lonely and confused wandering in the small corner is also part of her. When the joy surges in my heart, I hold up a book. It stares at me wordlessly, its eyes are calm and profound, and at the same time there is a slight warning, telling me to maintain a peaceful heart no matter where and when, read a few pages of the book, everything will disappear, and set sail again; when the annoyance and unwillingness in my heart are about to explode, I hold up a book. This book is still looking at me wordlessly, and its body unfolds unhurriedly, like a spring that has finally awakened after sleeping for a long time. The Chinese knot on the head is still standing there, and the cross parts in the middle are still closely connected. It tells me that no matter what, I can't slack off or give up. After reading a few pages of the book, everything will disappear and I can set sail again.
I always like this bookmark so much. It is like a loyal elder and a kind friend. It’s great to have you by my side as I grow up.
Chapter 2: A bookmark
I am an ordinary bookmark. Today, I was born. Soon after, I was packed into a container and shipped to no one. Everything fell into darkness again, and I closed my eyes helplessly, letting myself be at the mercy of fate. Then I had a wonderful dream in which I became a close companion of a book-loving person.
When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised to find that I hadIt was placed safely in the glass cabinet, and the dazzling light shone on me. I was waiting for the person who came to buy me.
Finally, someone came to me. He is a boy with a pair of black eyes on the bridge of his nose, his clothes are a little shabby, and his eyes are bright. He talked with the boss for a while, then he took out some old coins and put them in the boss's hand, and I was gently put into his bag.
"Brother, let me show you something!" the boy said. "What, brother?" another boy asked excitedly. Then, I was taken out, "Today is your birthday, didn't you say you wanted a bookmark?" "Are you crazy? Brother! Where did your money come from?" "I earned it myself! You boy, study hard and get into a good university. Don't let people look down on us for coming from the countryside!" "Yes." The boy's brother took the bookmark and nodded heavily. "Okay, then you go back to the house and study quickly. I'm going to work!" Then the door was closed. After a while, my brother carefully took me out. I took the bus with him, and my brother looked out the window solemnly. Finally, we arrived at our destination. It's where his brother "works". It's said to be a job, but actually it's a temporary job. He hid in the corner and looked at his brother from a distance. At this time, my brother accidentally knocked over a bowl of soup. He kept apologizing to the boss and the guests, but he was still scolded by the boss. The younger brother's eyes were moist, but he didn't let the tears flow. My brother raised his head and closed his eyes, holding me tightly in his hand. When it was time to eat, my brother still hadn't left. At this time, my brother took out the steamed buns, asked the boss for some pickles, and started eating. My brother couldn't bear it any longer, and a warm tear slid down my body. Later, I heard my younger brother saying to himself: "If you don't have any money, why don't you save money to buy me a birthday gift, you fool!" He returned home, slowly calmed down, and gently put me in the book.
After that, I shuttled between his textbooks, tutorial books, and various long and short stories. When my brother was studying, I saw his eyes that were as bright as his brother's. Two years later, he was admitted to a key university as he wished. He hugged his brother and shed tears of happiness!
And I was carefully stored in a wooden box by my brother. Although my body has been damaged, my brother still takes good care of me...
Part 3: A Bookmark
I love everything that is red and hot, such as New Year’s firecrackers, festival fireworks, and maple leaves everywhere.
The maple leaves in autumn are like fire, blooming brilliantly on the branches, and the bright red is like flying flags, pushing each other, trying to burn the eyes of admirers with the most dazzling gesture. The red maple resembles the youth of fifteen or sixteen years old, hot and red.
I specially searched for the most brilliant one in the maple leaf forests of America, carefully escorted it back to my country, and then carefully sandwiched it between two pages. I want to refine this fiery red ball into a bookmark full of youthful passion, and condense this piece of poetry into eternity.
Whenever I sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, waiting for the warm sunshine to fill the pages of the book, and staring at the bookmark obsessively, I seem to be back in the maple leaf forest, with the red leaves flying in the air, exuding the wildness of freedom.
But one day, I opened the page again and looked for the fiery red stick, but failed.
Is that piece of withered yellow clinging to the white page in a twisted posture still the fiery red maple leaf that attracts me most among the thousands of leaves? Why is it no longer passionate? How can that decadent and sickly appearance arouse my love?
MeGently stroking the familiar lines, you can no longer feel the vitality of life, just like the samples in the exhibition hall, dead like zombies behind the cold glass curtain wall. Is it just wishful thinking on my part? It turns out that the beauty of maple leaves can only bloom in autumn? Is it true that nothing can be caught or retained? What is there in life that can be remembered throughout life?
My father went to Canada on a business trip. Before leaving, he asked if he wanted to bring his daughter the most beautiful maple leaf as a bookmark. No, autumn has not arrived yet. I'm afraid the overwhelming enthusiasm has not yet arrived.
The day my father came back was also a sunny afternoon. He was still wearing the long gown he had worn when he went out and hugged me warmly. I felt a sense of déjà vu amid the dust from the travels. He took out his camera and said, "Look." The photo shows a cluster of maple leaves, which are not yet red, growing green and shyly. Under the seemingly delicate leaves, there is a fiery red that is about to bloom, as if there is flowing light, waiting and gathering momentum, like a sword about to be unsheathed. It is a different kind of beauty, different from the enthusiasm that comes straight to the point, but it makes people feel at ease. A few inches of sunshine shine through, and there is still charm.
So, I finally found another color besides fiery red, which belongs to the four seasons and every period of life. It is not wanton or enthusiastic enough, but it is practical and implicit. It is the determination before blooming and the persistence when waiting.
It turns out that the bookmark in life is not just youth.
Read full textThis is the end of this 700-word introduction to a bookmark essay. Have you found the information you need? If you want to know more selected compositions, remember to bookmark and follow this site.
published on 2023-02-08
