The English Light

by Sassy Poet

I would have never lit that candle
Opulent in its decor
Sitting alone in splendor
But asking all the while
Why not? Why me?

Let me shine and breathe and move
Let me flicker and pulse and groove

I am pretty but I burn.
Actually
The longer I burn, the prettier I get
She says with flirtatious pride
Her beauty trapped inside.

And even now, early on
I see her beauty and sense her song.
It's coming.

I'm glad I lit that candle.

One Day, The Imps Were Out

An Short Imp Story
by Sassy Imp

I have these Imps in my head. There's a whole slew of them: Imp Pulsive; Imp Plausible; Imp Possible; Imp Pervious; Imp Perious; Imp Pede (and his cousin, Imp Pediment); Imp Plode; Imp Partial; Imp Penetrable; Imp Potent; Imp Portant; Imp Passive; Imp Passioned (she's a foreigner and her spelling isn't so good); Imp Pressed.

Sometimes they amuse me. Most of the time, though, they are a rowdy bunch and get on my nerves. They make me drink vodka cocktails.

Anyway, one day, the Imps were out.

"Don't you ever get tired of him missing his wife?" sniped Imp Perious.

Imp Possible: "Yeah! What's up with that?"

"Oddly no," replied Imp Passive. Imp Penetrable nodded in agreement. Imp Passioned wiped the mist from her eyes.

"Ha!" Imp Perious snorted. "You're a fool for love!"

"Yes, I am," said Imp Passive. And calmly and slowly walked away.

I Said It First

by Sassy In Love

He said, "I love you." Just as we were hanging up the phone.

And I hung up.

And then I called him back.

"Did you just say you loved me?"

Laughter. "Yes, I did. And it just flowed out and I was just right now looking for my phone to call you back and tell you not to be scared cuz I said that."

"Why would I be afraid?" I ask.

"I don't know. I didn't know how you would react to me saying it."

Silence.

"Well, it doesn't scare me," I offer.

"Well, there you have it then," he says. "I said it first."

To Bea

Thank you for this gift, this time.
I know you. But I don't.
I will cherish him, I promise.
I don't think I'm worthy.
I could run. But I won't.

Thank you for his warmth, his light.
You could break him. But you don't.
You uplift him and nourish.
You let him shine and accept love.
He could run. But he won't.

Thank you for my tears, his tears
My fears brought to light
Succumbing to his energy
Loving his self and embracing his soul.
He is the one to make me whole.

I know that by loving him
I have entered into a marriage with you
And I love you and hold you. I do.
Close and tight in my heart
Thank you, Bea - from me.

Signed Your Sassy Soul Sister

To Fort Lauderdale In Love

by Sassy Esquire

So, yeah. Ben called me that Sunday after the Bahamas. Awesome! You could have knocked me over with a fairy sneeze! We chatted for about an hour (I had to leave for the "Pirates" movie) and I was utterly and completely smitten.

Just as my feet were about to hit the ground again on Monday, he called again!

"Yello."

"Jo? It's Ben," he says, as if I didn't know.

"I was just thinking about you!" At this point, I don't yet realize how many times I will utter that statement in the next week.

"Good," he replies. "So we're on the same page then."

Our two hour long conversation takes my breath away. We talk about everything under the sun (and Mars). I feel like I called myself. He is awesome!

The phone calls become a daily habit - I say "habit" because I am addicted! He is like a drug that I can't get enough of - intoxicating, exhilarating, sedating and scintillating. Can Ben be bottled?

On Tuesday, we play with the Angel cards during our call. He says he always pulls the "playfulness" card when he thinks of me. He asks if I will, therefore, play with him. It sounds like a proposal. I accept.

His calls are like food. I need them; crave them; feast on them. I hope to get obese on them.

On Wednesday, he calls on his way back from dropping off the boss, at exactly the moment that I am typing his name into my Outlook contacts. Perfect! I listen to him telling me that he was overcome by an urge to pull over and call me. He asks about my arbitration. He is so gentle and sweet and loving. I am dying to be with him again.

We end the call with the now familiar, "Talk to you later." As soon as I hang up the phone, I receive an email from US Airways - the weekly e-savers. I close my eyes and say,

"If they are advertising a cheap flight to Fort Lauderdale, I am going."

So, here I am on that flight to Fort Lauderdale. It's Saturday. One week since I met Ben. I am exhausted - pulled an all nighter at the office; no sleep; jeans still wet from last minute laundry. Ranger (my Beagle) is at the sitter's. My carry on luggage is crammed in the overhead compartment, full of sh*t I probably won't need. I am listening to my music and drinking a vodka cocktail. (The stewardess, I mean flight attendant, seemed amused that I ordered two bottles of vodka at 7 o'clock in the morning. I resisted the urge to explain, "I've had a very long night!")

The flight is beautiful. We trace the eastern seaboard in the early light. I crane my neck to take it all in. It is so clear and crisp outside. I can't wait to get there but I am enjoying the ride.

I have told the girls where I am going and who I am going to see. They have all the details. I am sure they think I am insane.

"Holy crap!" Adria replied when I told her. "I thought you were joking! You're really going there this weekend? But you only just meet him like 4 days ago!"

Yeah well. You know me.

The plane is in final descent. I catch my first glimpse of Fort Lauderdale's beaches. Wow! I never knew. Beautiful. And now, my neighbor wants to talk. Perhaps she is nervous about landing? I indulge her. Chit chat. She is anxious to land, she says. You and me both, girl!

And we're down.

I go to the bathroom and check my hair and make up. Not too bad for a woman existing on caffeine, vodka, and the promise of love. I might be glowing.

I call him.

"Hello?" his husky voice soothes me.

"Ben? It's Jo." As if he didn't know. "I'm here."