The World at Midnight

by IRENE FOWLER, Correspondent

I’m delighted that Irene has a new poem to share, and asked me to include this greeting:



To read Irene’s poem “The World at Midnight” click:


The World at Midnight

by  Irene Fowler

Fearful to awaken to the rigours of the day, and fearful, of the ghosts, of midnight sleep
In a world of crises, growing, ever deep.

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Fearful for my sovereign, sacred, safe, nesting place in life
Amidst, unending angst, and scary, stress and strife.

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Fearful of Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma and Omicron
Absent, a supra-national, virus-defeating hero, like 007 – James Bond.

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Fearful of accelerating, life threatening, climate change
As double-minded leaders, are dangerously short-ranged, or totally estranged.

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Fearful of the Amazon rain forest, slash-and-burn, mayhem and wild destruction of trees
A bio-diversity hazard; depleting prized tiger-cats, dolphins, macaws and honey bees.

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Fearful of biting, gnawing, mass economic deprivations
Leading to perilous, conflict-prone, migration of desperate populations.

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Fearful of wars, and rumours of wars
As world stability flails, flops and drops; accompanied by thunder-clapping, roars.

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Fearful of earth’s upset, and nonplussed, by the escalating space talk
Are the powers that be, stepping out, for a colonizing space walk?

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Fearful of ethnic, religious and political hate-filled, murderous groups
Stoked, by autocratic; leaders, financiers, and deadly shock-troops.

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Fearful of the glorification of violence, racism and misogyny
As predatory white supremacy, targets women of colour, timber and substance: ‘Omar’ and ‘AOC.’

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Fearful of the vile war on history, facts, reality and morality
All hail Fox News! Owning the crown jewels, of reprobate, propagandist, media untruths, and depravity.

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Fearful, forsooth, no longer, of the gloom and iniquity, of the world at midnight
Looking towards the brightest light, for courage, to stand; for the just and right.


© 2021 by Irene Fowler

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About wordcloud9

Nona Blyth Cloud has lived and worked in the Los Angeles area for the past 50 years, spending much of that time commuting on the 405 Freeway. After Hollywood failed to appreciate her genius for acting and directing, she began a second career managing non-profits, from which she has retired. Nona has now resumed writing whatever comes into her head, instead of reports and pleas for funding. She lives in a small house overrun by books with her wonderful husband.
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