ON MAN AND NATURE FIFTY  YEARS  LATER   A sickly green frog Once sat on a log, Engaged in dialogue, Enveloped in smog. Said he to Ladybug, “I need a big hug! Right now, Bug, Before my grave is dug.”   How long they sat There neither knew, Enough breaths taken, though, To get a sick flu; “It must be another virus,” Said Bug to Frog. “The fifth for me, In three months on this log.”   Now a frog and bug should know That pollution and its cloak Will make for sick folk- Maybe even make them croak. Just move to a different tree, Air clear so you can see; Health and safety follow, When no more toxin you swallow. Copyright, 2008             JAD:  I began this poem in sixth grade, almost fifty years ago.            All  I had down was, “There once was a frog that sat on a log…”           Nothing else came - and it certainly did not after a class-           mate  said, “Is that the best you can do?”  Think back to           something someone unthinkingly said to you that has affected           you from then until now.  I thought it was time to resolve this           old poem.  Its subject is an issue about which I have much           passion: chemical pollution.  I wonder what theme it might           have had fifty years ago?     DELAYED  DECAY     Winter’s rancid flavor of mold and decay Often echoes the spirit of a man of delay; Every highway and byway paved With many good intentions, Progress and accomplishment Marred with scared indentations.   Desiring to go everywhere but never going anyplace Is this one who drags his feet With every hindered pace; Never doing more than dreaming in his mind, Not knowing his gold possession, Lying unmined.   Days full of disaster and confusion, Weeks tiered with doubt and consternation; Years wasted, passing him by, Life spent. This - No money can buy. Copyright, 2008               JAD:  Acres of Diamonds  (Russell Conwell) expounds upon           the gifts of God to each person.  One’s unmined diamond is                often in one’s own backyard.  To delay its search brings           stagnation and decay.  I didn’t realize this poem was meant           for me about the writing God had given me.  What is your           diamond mine or gold field that you have not  discovered or           mined?       FLOWER  OF  SOCIETY   She was a flower of society - Nestled among rows of skyscraper tasks, Watered underneath towering expectations, Bedded in a wreath of rosebud perfection.   She was a flower of society - Fertility encamped on a park river shore, Futility veiled by shrouded city smog, Superficiality diverted with gales of haughty laughter, Humanity, in its travail, but a passing fancy.   She was a flower of society - Wilted dreams limp from toxic ambivalence, Faded laughter hollow from empty corridors, Dried hopes brittle from hand fashioned idols.   She WAS a flower of society. Copyright, 2008                          JAD:  One of my devotionals prompted a reflection                    of days prior to my salvation.  I had only recently                    read old journals of many years ago and was so                    amazed at how the Lord truly is faithful to complete                    the work He begins in us.  Most of my life had been                    spent pleasing society rather than God.  I WAS a                    flower of society!