The wheat fields

Under the rain of the sky reveal the fresh air, even the breathing is such a happy thing, rolling wheat fields, golden waves of grain, far from the seven colors of the rainbow, I looked up - dream Whispering Colour.
I remember we also young, with carrying bags through this period, I remember when reading aloud, in the early days of the time before dawn to early morning wake, the warm welcome the first dawn. I gave you the gucci handbags which my mother sent me. Remember that year also young, did not know how many cares and stepped on the place, the game had the playground, over the old textbooks, cast the old ball, as well as the big banyan tree lush. The one bought popsicles from the hands of the students won the first bottle, took the hand delivery to the teacher's half white chalk strokes on the blackboard and write his name seriously, and at the same table exchange of half a rubber, and learn the white paper airplane folding, and vowed to get up early in the school desks of the "early" word, everything is like a billowing white clouds, big flower big flower roll over death, this has not been suddenly discovered those stories too long.
Grow suddenly looked jumbled tender texture of the palm, the last flash I have grown up, big hands to hold the warm sunshine. Who really is a hero to grow up.
Sub-piece of the golden wheat fields threw childhood, forget the Xixi Catcher in the calls of insects and forget how the sun is covered by clouds? Forget the wind looks like it is blue blue? Forget the taste of the winter is cold, white? May we continue to wear gucci shoes and go to the high mountains.If we had not traveled this road was young, the terraced rice paddies and wheat fields know how to take us to go where? Here too there is always full of fate, not the same to happen would take away the story, these who do not know.
We count all the stars, dreaming, listening to the voice of the breeze feel the taste of summer, with the future in guessing what will become our future?
We walked hand in hand with the old banyan tree, pick up one and a banyan leaf bag collection with the story of that season.
You say you want to learn in the future to where you want to go, I think you silly smile face serious look.
That young more than a simple, but I do not know what is sorrow and trouble, we go all the way along the way home, taken off the purple flowers, sing tender songs, listening to the birds flying over the head called cha cha. I always thought the golden waves of grain hiding under the little secret, still waiting for the desk where to live in a group of dwarves, so, ah, etc ... ... waiting for a picture of white rolls open and close, school class room we finally grow up, can not buy in calisthenics when Touliu Chu small shop selling popsicles to eat, can not share the joy of a dime.
I smiled for you with your fingers clean little face, you took the bag after school and so I stood in front of the school. Few years of that year, I do not know something, do not know how the future of the future? Our sky is always colorful, always arbitrary aspect of our dreams, we painted the walls of chaos is always one hand and side, we have done wrong is always too much.
The other side of the wind in the world, urging us to grow up quickly, then our dream into another place.
Have not had time of the lollipop with a blink of an eye we have grown.
The age of folded layers of clouds, another one-year-old age, if the big sky, my gucci watches shows 4:00 pm.the dream seems to fit too many people, so some people learn to dream on paper, into a transparent glass let it wander around.
We learned to play wooden guitar, sing inexplicably sad songs, bumbling high school students want to be like the same maturity. Equations on the blackboard of our heart will always inextricable confusion, trouble is we have too many stuffed into small boxes, do not know do not know how, just outside the window open and the flowers fall, I do not know how many dreams?
We have left the sky a brilliant smile, clouds covered the growth of our seal, parents urged us to grow up, we want to get on the bus when the cushioned toe adult buy a ticket.