Raise A Redhead Glass: Romantic IMprov Haiku

I hoisted a glass/
of frothy red juice toward/
the West, her saucy.
OR
I hoisted a glass/
of frothy red juice westward,/
t’ward her fieriness.

Hopeless Romantics Repent! Romantic Email Sonnet

I see so many dating profiles where people categorize themselves as being a “Hopeless Romantic”. To such women, I wrote this:

Nobody/
should ever be/
a hopeless romantic./
That would be tragic./

Always be hopeful.
Then life’s more full.
Others will draw near
when we’re full of cheer.

The optimistic me
is who women would rather see.
And it also is true:
I prefer a hopeful you.

It brings me heartfelt sorrow and duress
to watch romantics wallow in hopelessness.

I think there was a/
moment when our eyes met, but/
then she looked away.

At what point does his/
flattering persistence turn/
to obnoxiousness?

Die tiefe Frage/
ist, ob man wirklich auf Deutsch/
Romantisch sein kann.

She is a hopeless/
romantic. Tragic. I seek/
hopeful romantics.

I think some women/
take selfies to remind men/
what beauty looks like.

He wished he could speak/
whispers to her and turn her/
enough to join him.

I want to write poems/
to her whom I danced with, but/
she’s knee-deep elsewhere

She wants poems from me/
but she’s in love with him. What’s/
wrong with this picture?