Сочинение о России

                                      Я люблю  тебя , Россия

                                В этом слове трели                                                                        Курских соловьёв,                                                                                В этом слове сотни                                                                         Наших голосов.                                                                                Здесь всё, что едино:                                                                        Здесь и ты, и я,                                                                                Что в сердцах хранимо                                                                        Будет навсегда.                                                                                Это слово – камень,                                                                        Это слово – лёд.                                                                                Это – моя Родина,                                                                                Это – мой народ.                                                                                И нельзя без гордости                                                                         Говорить о ней,                                                                                Сколько вечной мудрости                                                                В кронах тополей!                                                                                Сколько нежной прелести                                                                На стволах берёз!                                                                                Много было радости,                                                                        Много было слёз ,                                                                                Но смогла, осилила                                                                        Через глубь времён                                                                        Сколько проносила ты                                                                        Вражеских знамён !?                                                                        Сколько раз теряла ты                                                                        Лучших сыновей                                                                                И дождём смывала ты                                                                        Кровь с своих полей !?                                                                        Но в годины чёрные                                                                        Ты была им – мать,                                                                        За тебя, родимую,                                                                                Жизнь не жаль отдать.                                                                        Навсегда запомнятся                                                                        Павших имена,                                                                                В церкви перезвонница                                                                        Нам  как знак  дана,                                                                        Чтобы жили, помнили                                                                        В переменах лет                                                                                Тех, кто был участником                                                                Славных тех побед.                                                                        А теперь, свободная,                                                                        Родина – земля                                                                                Краше и прекраснее                                                                        Всё день ото дня.                                                                                Как люблю я песнь ручья                                                                Слушать под горой,                                                                        Алый как рассвет встречать                                                         Утренней порой!                                                                                Как чудесны по весне                                                                        Первые цветы!                                                                                Каждый год их даришь мне,                                                                Русь родная, ты .                                                                                А зимой завьюжит так,                                                                        Что не сунешь нос ,                                                                        Оттого что снег – чудак                                                                 Всё крыльцо занёс.                                                                        Вот сидишь, порой, глядишь                                                        И в глазах бело,                                                                                На дворе трещит мороз,                                                                А в душе – тепло.                                                                                Отчего так, почему? -                                                                        Спросишь ты порой.                                                                        - Я простор родной люблю,                                                                Вдумчивый покой.                                                                                Ну, а осенью люблю                                                                        Я в лесах бродить                                                                                И летящую листву                                                                         На ходу ловить.                                                                                Ветер рвёт всё на куски,                                                                Лес, похоже, рад                                                                                Потерять перед зимой                                                                        Золота наряд.                                                                                Над сторонкою родной                                                                        Утренний туман,                                                                                 И поникнул головой                                                                        Клевер да дурман.                                                                                Но сильней всего душа                                                                        Тянется к теплу,                                                                                Оттого- то, может быть,                                                                Лета я так жду .                                                                                Этот жаркий, светлый,                                                                        Солнечный денёк,                                                                                И в полях безбрежных                                                                        Синий василёк.                                                                                И реку, что блещет                                                                        В зарослях лозы,                                                                                И полёт бесшумный                                                                        Крыльев стрекозы .                                                                        Кто богатства эти                                                                                Дал в награду нам?                                                                        Лучшая на свете                                                                                Родина, что храм.                                                                                В этом слове нежность,                                                                В этом слове сила,                                                                        Знай, что я навеки                                                                                Люблю тебя, Россия !