童年是田野里的瘦蚱蜢,是大树上的胖知了,是篱笆上的牵牛花;童心是小鸟飞翔的翅膀,是小猫追逐的尾巴,是我们探寻的眼睛;童趣是跳动的音符,是飘香的诗行,是张牙舞爪的图画。有多少问号在等待着美好的梦想?有多少省略号在等待着发现的目光?有多少感叹号在等待着彩色的脚印?那么打开书吧,它会带我们进入一座秘密花园,那里有纯净的心灵开花,有翠绿 Childhood is a thin grasshopper in the field, is the fat know the big tree, is the morning glory on the fence; innocence is the bird flying wings, is the cat chasing the tail, is our search for the eyes; childlike is beating The notes, is the fragrance of poetry, is a picture of a claw. How many question marks are waiting for a good dream? How many ellipsis are waiting for the spotlight? How many exclamations are waiting for colored footprints? Then open the book bar and it will take us into a secret garden where the pure heart blossoms , There is green