800-word lyric prose describing father: father
My father never admitted that I had grown up.
The father in memory, like a boulder highlighted in the stormy waves, is so high that people can only look at it from a distance, but they can never touch it.
When I went home during the Spring Festival, my grandparents were at my uncle's house, and my mother went out shopping again. Such a big yard is deserted. There is a big elm tree in the southwest corner of the yard, which makes people sad when the wind comes. It's just me and my father in the yard.
Dull for a long time, my father slowly suggested posting Spring Festival couplets, and I nodded stiffly. The wedding invitations on the doors and windows were quickly posted, leaving only the high ones.
I borrowed a ladder from my neighbor's house. My father was in front and I was in the back. I walked home silently against the wind. It is still so cold in January, and the biting wind makes people shudder. Father's black hair was turned over by the wind, revealing the covered white hair, which looked so bright in this dusk. On the way, my father kept changing his shoulders to relieve the pain. But I obviously feel that the ladder is not heavy.
When I got home, I set up a ladder. Father kept rubbing his shoulders with his hands and turning his waist. It suddenly occurred to me that my father said a few days ago that he had right scapulohumeral periarthritis. I held the ladder for fear that it would fall off the wall after my father climbed it. But my father tried several times and couldn't climb up. Father shook his head helplessly, stepped on the ladder, shook it a few times to confirm whether the ladder was safe, and turned his head helplessly and said to me, "Go on!" " "I didn't find it difficult to climb up, so I posted Spring Festival couplets.
Father shook his head with a wry smile. After I came down, he still tried to climb up, but he always failed. Father finally gave up the idea of climbing up. The ladder was returned to my neighbor by me, and my father could no longer carry the "heavy" ladder.
When I got home, my father was sitting in front of the door, rubbing his shoulders. When I came back, he stopped immediately and asked faintly, "Did you return it?" I gave a "mmm" and he gave me a wry smile: "I'm too old to move the ladder."
After a long silence, my father looked at the old elm tree and said sadly, "You have grown up." I'm surprised that this is the first time my father admitted that I have grown up.
The old elm tree in the southwest corner is very old. It smokes when it rains. When the wind comes, it whistles. It has some buds under it and is thriving. Elms can only grow old.
My father may be as old as this old elm tree!
800-word lyric prose describing father: the taste of father
Father is a famous book that I will never finish reading in my life. Father's love is the sky I can never fly out of. My father's smell is a different touch. -inscription
There is such a person in the world who loves me the most. He has run through my life, he has witnessed all my joys and sorrows, and he has a special name for his father.
Father doesn't have many sweet words and flowers are not romantic. But really, silently, pay for me. That little bit of love, gathered into great love, selfless.
Because of the third grade, I live in a rented house near the school with my classmates, and I can only go home once every Saturday. And I have a strange habit: I can't use shower gel for a while, otherwise I will feel uncomfortable all over. So, every Saturday afternoon, I always bring my own shower gel home. Another Saturday, when I was about to take a shower, I found that I didn't bring my shower gel home. When I was upset, I accidentally found the bottle of "Lux" in the bathroom. It must be the father! This is my first reaction.
It turns out that my father's heart that loves me has already been exposed in many small details that I don't pay attention to. I can even imagine my father trying to remember the appearance of the brand carefully when he bought shower gel in the supermarket, the surprise and satisfaction when he remembered it, and the scene of coming home with shower gel.
In the evening, my father tapped on my door. I asked a few random questions and turned to leave. I hugged my father quietly and said coquetry, "Thank you, Dad, I knew you were the best!" " "Father dazed, revealing childish shyness. He answered casually and made a dash for the door.
I just found out today that dad is so cute.
That bottle of "Lux" exudes a unique taste, and the fragrance has permeated my whole youth. My father's love was inadvertently smelled by me. Perhaps, in the days to come, I will always think of that familiar smell.
Every time it comes to despair. I will look up at the sky, I will think of my father's aging face, I will think of everything my father confided to me in those years, and I will even think of his countless drops of love-the smell of shower gel! You will regain your fighting spirit.
I touched the past lightly, and today's sunshine has the taste of that year. Because my father's love escorted me, I was able to walk through those spring, summer, autumn and winter with peace of mind.
The smell of father is the smell of youth.
800-word lyric prose describing father: father's promise
My father is a cable TV administrator, who is a nobody in charge of maintaining and installing TV.
My father is always busy in my heart. Busy. Almost every day, the sun starts in the morning and the stars go home at night! Sometimes I don't even know where he has gone. But always when he answers the phone, I can hear such a sentence: "OK, OK, I'll come tomorrow." Sure enough, the next day I rode a motorcycle with many tools and materials hanging on it. With the vibration and jingle of the motorcycle, I knew that my father had set off ... and came back. ...
The year before last, with the expansion of the new countryside, my father's management area added three more villages. On the evening of 29th last year, my father received another call 364 days a year: "Lao Wang! Sorry, our TV line was crushed by heavy snow. " Father is still the same line: "OK, OK, I'll come tomorrow!" " "That night, it suddenly began to snow, a foot deep. Although the New Year brings us joy, it brings our father sadness. In the early morning of 3 1, my father was still carrying a tool kit and a large bundle of TV lines. I was worried that my father couldn't work alone, so I asked to go with him. After all, I can still get the tools! Leave the family affairs to my mother and my brother!
My father and I walked for an hour and a half and arrived at the village that can be reached by motorcycle in 20 minutes. My shoes and socks were wet, but I didn't say, because I knew my father's shoes and socks must be wet, too. I stepped on his footprints all the way. Father stepped on the telephone pole, unplugged the old wire and replaced it with a new one. His hands were turned gray by the cold wind. More than three hours of work is finally over!
On the way home, I said, "Why did you come here to suffer so much today? Everyone else's family has eaten, and we are still walking slowly step by step here. " My father's answer shocked me: "I promised others that if we don't go today, dozens of families will not see the Spring Festival Gala!" " "Said, and also showed me the road Zhao Benshan had taken when he was" selling cars ". I was silent for a long time!
Father's greatest happiness is to take us for a walk on the road and say, "I installed this and made that!" " "Although I was impatient, my father didn't mean to stop, and he talked more and more! We are happy to see him so happy!
In my heart, my father is an eternal model worker, because his promise has brought joy to the whole family! Here, I would like to express my heartfelt respect to the uncles, aunts, brothers and sisters of the workers!