Pale as snow,
and eyes so blue,
and not quite yet mine.
Not a lover,
but a dancer.
With his own kind of mind.

Complicated personality,
but yet such simple taste.
Drawing me in,
so I'm chasing my heart,
and leaving no mark of space.

Swift witted,
slow texter.
Only chatty eye-to-eye.
Fights on whether I understand him.
He's that 'something' kind of guy.

Valentine oh valentine,
the sweetest wine,
a valentine.
Always mine,
my valentine.
To hug when I am, oh so bored.
Valentine oh valentine,
so calm; refined,
my valentine.
Never leave my mind,
my iridescent valentine.
Lest' you thus strick me with a sword.