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I present you the preamble to Verve. No matter where, when, what position you read life. As if we had eagle eyes with kinetic lenses, that point out opportune turning points in midst of an exciting tumult, avenues thronged with people. A delightful opportunity would be rushed into, given that many had the scope, revivifying heads turn avidity. But all the reification, sometimes, when you are finding a lighter, you may coincidentally pick a broken-spined opener on the street. A forlorn matchbox with a significant number inside. How much curiosity-level would be required by you in order to call it–the decorated heart drawn in by ballpoint pen? I’d come to clasp hands for the one who smirkily did. Then I present you this, a lithe anthology of poems written by John Lansden and Samuel Sylf. Among unheard poems, ink smells fresh, above a few pictures, many perceptions. You, have a read. – Thanks, so what do you do? – Let me tell with haiku. I’m awry on daily Purpose as it relieves to Hug exact ones’ kiss – Samuel You can read the description of Verve: In the Autumn on amazon

Do you have any questions for us? It's been a while since back then... time flies. Over a decade just flashed by. In 2013 and now 2024, the content remains the same in the verve of the autumn.