February 14, 1958
Dear Vivian,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue
Sugar, don’t you know
How much I love you

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1959
Dear Vivian,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Another year’s passed…
Still, my love remains true.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1960
Dear Vivian,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Cupid aimed for my heart,
And struck an arrow straight through.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1961
Dear Vivian,

Last night, I seldom slept as I laid in my bed
An epiphany struck and stirred in my head
Roses are not best described as just “red”
They’re far better expressed in this way instead:

Supple and soft, radiant and rare.
Blissfully unaware of the beauty they bear
Vibrant and bold, yet fragile and fair,
Still, to you, sugar – they do not compare.

You are a rose, but a nightingale, too.
With a voice of honey; sweet, tingly, and true.
A rose and a nightingale, but you’re also bamboo;
Versatile and resilient- words best fit for you.

This cannot be summarized by roses and violets
My expression is loud, and those poems are so quiet.
You deserve more than these words I’ve compiled. If
I’m just a passenger, you’re surely the pilot.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1962
Dear Vivian,

My eternal Valentine; my violet, my rose.
Of all fish in the sea, you’re the angel I chose.
A draft in my dining room deterred my near doze…
At nine, I noticed my window was not closed.

I peered through the pane and was greeted by grace,
A wonderfully warm welcome; a glimpse of your face
Shivers kissed my neck, and my heart – it did race.
For the one thousandth time, I yearned for your embrace.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1963
Dear Vivian,

I saw you last night; you’re elegant on stage.
Has anyone mentioned how gracefully you age?
I took your photo for my next scrapbook page
I’ll frame it with rose buds, cinnamon and sage.

I called out to you from my seat in the crowd
“You are my violet, my Valentine,” I vowed.
You mustn’t have heard me; that room’s awfully loud.
Still, that performance you did, my love, made me proud.

I gazed out my window, and to my dismay,
Your billboard’s removed; replaced by Olay.
No longer shall your smile begin my each day,
Still, our love is enduring, so I’ll be okay.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1964
Dear Vivian,

Have I scared you, my darling? You seem far away
The police have tried twice to lead me astray.
I’ll find you, I promise; together one day.
With passion this prominent, there’s always a way.

Roses are red, and red swims in your veins.
Violets are blue. Blue is grief, blue is pain.
Sugar is sweet, but be sure you don’t choke.
Without your love dear, I’m just ashes… just smoke.

With Love,
Phillip

February 14, 1965
Dear Vivian,

Roses are red, violets are blue.
I fear I can no longer live without you.
I’ll make you a promise and keep my word true.
After all, I believe this is long over due.

At this very moment, at this time next year,
I’ll recite to you in person, my next poem, dear.
I’ve waited long enough, now let me be clear,
Our happily ever after is finally near.

With Love,
Phillip