Foam, Author: Gary Blankenship, 

Green foam,
washes dirty
upon a distant shore,
calls for you and me to litter
the sand.

Gold foam,
rare spun candy
wrapped in chocolate,
melts softly in my mouth as I 
in yours.

Brown foam,
mocha delight
covered with cinnamon
leaves a thin moustache on your lip
I'll take. 

White foam,
shaving lather
to remove your rough beard,
better suited to smooth my limbs,
pure skin.

Blue foam,
hibiscus smell,
steaming hot bubble bath,
cleanses our bodies of others

Pale foam,
you give to me
and I to you, mingled
in the warm core of our love

(c) Copyright, Gary Blankenship, 2000
All rights reserved - Copy/Duplication Prohibited 

When the Cat Beckons, (for khatt) (c) Copyright 2001
Author: Gary Blankenship, 

This night, field and forest
set in fluorescent blaze,
the window of my dreams
rattled by a hint of mocha,
scent of cinnamon smoke.

I reach to unlatch the screen,
the glass, when before
me she moves, her shape
taken from the cloudless sky,
her dress from drifts of dew.

I reach but cannot stir,
her hair heavy on my chest,
as her nails tremble my sac
between a feather's caress
and claw's tender tear.

The night awash with light,
none catches her sienna form,
bent over me, buttocks high,
silk teeth nibble round my rod,
each bite firmer than the last.

I buck, each prick added heat
until the need to spurt hot juice
between her scarlet lips.
With only a light leak, a taste,
I feel her smile encircle my staff.

I reach for her dusky breasts,
to find my arms pinned to the bed.
Her nipples jut into the dark
as she moves her quiff 
along my turgid prong.

Salt and sweat, the night air
swelters with our spiced taste.
Her breasts bounce before my eyes
as she thrusts my meat deeper
unto her box, until I burst...

and wake to find my hand
wet with cum, my penis sore.
Awake, I shiver in winter's air,
window unlatched to catch
the sound of laughter on the wind.

The moon moves toward dawn,
I lay and sniff cinnamon cream.

(c) Copyright, Gary Blankenship, 2000
All rights reserved - Copy/Duplication Prohibited

Nude Seasons (c) Copyright 2000
Author: Gary Blankenship,

Spring wear
wispy and loose,
a sparse breeze will remove
with modest ease when our mood
is right.

with heavy, green costume;
fully dressed, we crawl under brush
for fun.

storms tear leafy
garments to shreds and rags,
but we smile for the tattered look
is in. 

we fire the stove
and stoke up the sauna.
Dare to be bare when all your sports


green turns scarlet,
burgundy and dull brown;
wind strips us bare for winter's jaunt
to spring.

(c) Copyright, Gary Blankenship, 2000
All rights reserved - Copy/Duplication Prohibited