Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
An ‘elf’ mother.
Who fled to England.
With her children.
At the start of the war.
With ‘Mordor’.
Says she is proud of.
Her son after he joined.
Their country’s war effort.
‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!’
She arrived in Grantham.
Lincolnshire, in 2022.
With her six-year-old daughter.
and son, then 16.
With her six-year-old daughter.
and son, then 16.
Following attacks.
On their home town Odesa.
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
Last summer.
Her son, now 19.
Joined a four-year.
Military academy course.
Training to become.
A soldier.
After he said he wanted to.
Return and “defend his country”.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
She said she admired.
His decision but admitted.
She would be worried.
If he went to fight.
“I really hope.
When he finishes his course.
The war will have stopped.”
The war will have stopped.”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
It is now three years.
Since ‘Mordor’ launched.
Its full-scale invasion.
Of Ukraine.
‘The One’ ordered up to.
200,000 soldiers.
Into the country.
Wanting to overthrow.
The pro-Western government.
And return Ukraine.
To ‘Mordor’’s sphere.
Of influence.
What, art mad?
A man may see
how this world goes
with no eyes.
Look with thine ears:
see how yond justice rails
upon yond simple thief.
Hark, in thine ear:
change places;
and, handy-dandy,
which is the justice,
which is the thief?
She, her two children.
And her husband lived.
In a14th-floor flat.
When they came under attack.
“I jumped from my bed.
Because of bombs.
It was so scary.”
She recalled.
“I saw a big explosion.
From my window.
I just thought.
I have to save my child.”
What shall Cordelia do?
Love, and be silent.
What shall Cordelia do?
Love, and be silent.
Two weeks later.
The family packed their bags.
To board a train.
To Poland.
But she feared.
Her son would not be.
Allowed to leave because.
“He looked like a man”.
Then poor Cordelia!
And yet no so; since,
I am sure, my love’s
more richer than my tongue.
“I started to scream.
‘It’s my second child.
It’s my second child’.
I had to almost fight.”
“I had to almost fight.
For a place.
On the train.”
She added.
Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
“We spent 40 hours.
On the train.
Our food finished.
Our water finished.”
“It was difficult.
People laying on the floor.
And 150 people.
In one carriage.”
What, art mad?
A man may see
how this world goes
with no eyes.
Look with thine ears:
see how yond justice rails
upon yond simple thief.
Hark, in thine ear:
change places;
and, handy-dandy,
which is the justice,
which is the thief?
After a three-month stay.
In Poland.
She and her children found.
A host family in Grantham.
But her son wanted.
To return to Ukraine.
But her son wanted.
To return to Ukraine.
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
The 42-year-old said.
She tried to help him.
Settle in the area.
Settle in the area.
But after two years.
But after two years.
Had now accepted.
Why he wanted to return.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
“It’s his decision.
I am so proud of him.
He is so strong.
He’s not a child now.”
She said he knew.
He wanted to join.
The war effort as soon as.
He turned 18.
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
He said: “When the war.
Started the only thing.
I thought about is.
To defend Ukraine.”
“I want to make.
A bigger impact.
On ‘elves’ defence.
Now and in the future.”
‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!’
She will be hoping.
She gets her wish.
That the war ends.
Before her son graduates.
And joins the front line.
“I can’t believe.
He’s going to fight.
I can’t think about it.”
Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
Nothing, my lord.
Nothing.
*Because I read “Mum’s pride as son joins Ukrainian war effort” by Shirley Henry on 21 Mar 2025, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Olesia and Maksym, led by ‘KING LEAR’ written by William Shakespeare and ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukrainian mum’s pride as son joins war effort against Russia
