Who’s Not Listening? Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

I can’t convince you/
that I’m listening, heartfelt,/
to you when you’re not.

When Honored Wooing is Requested: Romantic IMprov Email Sonnet

What you request, I can’t
honor and chat,
(or, at least, I shant)
like “that”,

because
as you say,
in your own way,
the man who thus texts does

not show the courage,
nor the communication skills
to cause the heartfelt thrills
of a well-mannered, gentler age.

So instead, as you cunningly suggested,
you’ll find, with this sonnet, your phone number requested.

Dancing on The Savanah: Revolutionary IMprov Sonnet

Feeling harmonic ebb and flow, do you,
treading across the savanah’s plains, care to
take a creative chance/
and passionately dance?

Barefoot in grasses green,
to musicians only heard, not seen./
Whose creative muse from far away/
calms us when confused and holds sway/

over our hearts, souls, and hands
and as we dance ‘mid the grass and sands
we come to the conclusion:/
there should be no confusion!

Our mental, soulful, heartfelt views,
as we dance, hold only music and muse.

Closing the curtain on a beautiful sunset: email poetic lament

How to end this?
I’m not certain.
It’s like viewing a sunset’s bliss,
then drawing the curtain.

Perhaps it ends with a heartfelt statement,
almost trite
(but not quite)
in its simplicity:
Do you think it was meant
for you to write me?