‘Hush-a-by lady,
in Alice’s lap!
Till the feast’s ready,
we’ve time for a nap;
When the feast’s over,
we’ll go to the ball –
Red Queen, and White Queen,
and Alice, and all!
By day.
Kyiv can often feel.
Far from the front line.
Far from the front line.
But at night.
The war looms large.
But at night.
The war looms large.
and sounded more like a tune:
at last she could
even make out words,
and she listened so eagerly that,
when the two great heads
suddenly vanished
from her lap,
she hardly missed them.
In the morning rush hour.
The traffic along.
The Dnipro river embankment.
Is heavy and slow-moving.
As people try to.
Get to work.
And go about.
Their daily lives.
Here she checked herself
in some alarm,
at hearing something
that sounded to her
like the puffing of
a large steam-engine
in the wood near them,
though she feared
During the night.
Every so often.
The air raid sirens.
Go off.
Much of the time.
People glance.
At their phones.
And then decide on.
Their plan of action.
Depending on the threat.
Their plan of action.
Depending on the threat.
it was more likely
to be a wild beast.
‘Are there any lions or tigers
about here?’ she asked timidly.
‘It’s only the Red King
snoring,’ said Tweedledee.
‘Come and look at him!’
the brothers cried,
Last night.
Monitoring channels.
Such as Telegram.
Alerted Kyiv residents.
To a potentially.
Heavy attack involving.
Not just drones.
But missiles too.
They are not always accurate.
But this time.
The air raid sirens rang.
And people listened.
and they took each one of
Alice’s hands,
and led her up to where
the King was sleeping.
‘Isn’t he a lovely sight?’
said Tweedledum.
Alice couldn’t say
honestly that he was.
The muffled thud of.
Air defences intercepting.
Drones and missiles.
Was the soundtrack.
Was the soundtrack.
To most of the night.
People can sleep.
Through them.
He had a tall
red night-cap on,
with a tassel, and
he was lying crumpled up
into a sort of untidy heap,
and snoring loud
– ‘fit to snore his head off!’
as Tweedledum remarked.
But then, around 03:00.
There was a loud explosion.
– the sound of a missile.
That had hit a building.
It was enough.
To wake people up.
To wake people up.
Across the city.
‘I’m afraid he’ll catch cold
with lying on the damp grass,’
said Alice, who was
a very thoughtful little girl.
‘He’s dreaming now,’
said Tweedledee:
‘and what do you think
he’s dreaming about?’
People made their way.
To the shelter.
Every so often.
We could hear.
The whirr of.
A drone overhead;
The whirr of.
A drone overhead;
Then flashes of light.
As some were shot down.
And they fell.
From the sky.
Alice said, ‘Nobody
can guess that.’
‘Why, about you!’
Tweedledee exclaimed,
clapping his hands triumphantly.
‘And if he left off
dreaming about you,
where do you suppose you’d be?’
After the big explosion.
That woke us up.
We could see huge plumes.
Of smoke on the horizon.
That, we now know.
Was the strike.
On the Darnytskyi district.
On Kyiv’s left bank.
‘Where I am now,
of course,’ said Alice.
‘Not you!’ Tweedledee
retorted contemptuously.
‘You’d be nowhere.
Why, you’re only
a sort of thing
in his dream!’
It was hit by.
At least one missile.
On a night that.
‘Orcs’ fired.
‘Orcs’ fired.
Almost 600 drones.
And more than 30 missiles.
According to the ‘elves’ military.
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
Missile and drone strikes.
Were recorded.
In 13 different locations.
In 13 different locations.
And the attack.
On Darnytskyi was.
On Darnytskyi was.
The most deadly.
in his dream,
what are you,
I should like to know?’
‘Ditto,’ said Tweedledum.
‘Ditto, ditto!’ cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this
so loud that Alice
couldn’t help saying,
The missile ripped.
Through the middle of.
The low-rise block.
Of flats;
The five floors.
The five floors.
Had totally collapsed.
Where it hit.
Rescue workers were.
Clambering over the rubble.
– some of it was.
Still smouldering.
‘Hush! You’ll be
waking him,
I’m afraid,
if you make so much noise.’
‘Well, it’s no use your talking
about waking him,’
said Tweedledum,
‘when you’re only
The brick and wrought-iron.
Balconies were twisted.
In the blast.
Some hanging by a thread.
Plant pots and.
Fruit baskets sat on.
Broken windowsills.
A reminder of the families.
That until hours earlier.
Had led their lives.
Tucked away.
Behind these walls.
one of the things
in his dream.
You know very well
you’re not real.’
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
‘I am real!’ said Alice,
and began to cry.
Diggers and trucks.
Were lining up to.
Collect broken bits.
Of the building.
And clear the way.
For the workers.
Trying to sift.
Through the debris.
In the hope of.
Finding survivors.
In the hope of.
Finding survivors.
‘You won’t make yourself
a bit realler by crying,’
Tweedledee remarked:
‘there’s nothing to cry about.’
‘If I wasn’t real,’ Alice said
– half-laughing through her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous –
‘I shouldn’t be able to cry.’
Every so often.
A stretcher with a body bag.
Was delivered.
– a victim found in the rubble.
Nearby, a woman.
Was sitting on a chair.
Her mobile phone.
To her ear.
Since 03.30.
She has tried.
Desperately to contact.
Her mother.
Every time she calls.
It just rings out.
Every time she calls.
It just rings out.
‘I hope you don’t suppose
those are real tears?’
Tweedledum interrupted
in a tone of great contempt.
‘I know they’re talking nonsense,’
Alice thought to herself:
‘and it’s foolish
to cry about it.’
“You never think.
It will be your house.
That’s hit,” she says.
Starting to cry.
Her mother didn’t want.
To go to the shelter.
She was a slower walker.
Than daughter.
So decided to shelter.
In the corridor.
So decided to shelter.
In the corridor.
So she brushed away her tears,
and went on
as cheerfully as she could,
‘At any rate
I’d better be getting out
of the wood,
for really it’s coming on
very dark.
“These attacks are very cruel.
They happen at a time.
When people are sleeping.
And you are unable.”
“And you are unable.
To get your bearings.
And they are attacking with.
Everything all together.”
“And they are attacking with.
Everything all together.
– missiles and.
Shaheds drones.”
“They all attack.
At the same time.
It’s just impossible.
To live like this.”
Do you think it’s going to rain?’
Tweedledum spread
a large umbrella over
himself and his brother,
and looked up into it.
‘No, I don’t think it is,’
he said: ‘at least
– not under here. Nohow.’
Also on site was.
The Minister for Foreign Affairs.
What do these attacks mean?
For the current bid?
What do these attacks mean?
For the current bid?
To end the war?
You ask him.
“This is a pure example.
Of a terrorism attack.
That’s the response.
Of ‘Mordor’.”
“That’s the response.
Of ‘Mordor’.
For all our peace proposals.
And all our peace efforts.”
‘But it may rain outside?’
‘It may – if it chooses,’
said Tweedledee:
‘we’ve no objection.
Contrariwise.’
‘Selfish things!’ thought Alice,
and she was just going to say
‘Good-night’ and leave them,
The death toll in Kyiv.
Climbed throughout the day.
With at least 21 killed.
Including four children.
A woman, 54.
And her husband survived.
The missile strike.
On the block of flats.
‘He’s dreaming now,’
said Tweedledee:
‘and what do you think
he’s dreaming about?’
Alice said, ‘Nobody
can guess that.’
‘Why, about you!’
Tweedledee exclaimed,
But their gold-coloured.
Volvo car was hit.
By shrapnel.
“I just can’t.”
She says, unable to.
Finish her sentence.
When asked what she makes.
Of the ‘orcs’ strikes.
“People are dying.
Simple people are dying.
So many are dying.
You just cannot imagine.”
clapping his hands triumphantly.
‘And if he left off
dreaming about you,
where do you suppose you’d be?’
‘Where I am now,
of course,’ said Alice.
‘Not you!’ Tweedledee
retorted contemptuously.
Her husband believes.
The only path.
To peace is.
Without ‘the One’.
“If there are negotiations.
And peace.
‘The One’ can’t be president.”
He says, before conceding.
That’s an unlikely scenario.
As he clings to power.
That’s an unlikely scenario.
As he clings to power.
‘You’d be nowhere.
Why, you’re only
a sort of thing
in his dream!’
‘If that there King was to wake,’
added Tweedledum,
‘you’d go out – bang! –
just like a candle!’
It’s been 40 months now.
Since ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.
But the reality of war.
In ‘elves’ capital is never far away.
A day of mourning.
Is being observed.
In Kyiv after the second.
Biggest ‘orcs’ aerial attack.
Of the war so far killed.
At least 23 people.
Including four children.
And injured dozens of others.
‘I shouldn’t!’
Alice exclaimed indignantly.
‘Besides, if I’m only
a sort of thing
in his dream,
what are you,
I should like to know?’
‘Ditto,’ said Tweedledum.
The city’s mayor said.
It was to honour the dead.
As a massive recovery effort.
As a massive recovery effort.
Continues at.
The five-storey block of flats.
Where 22 of the 23.
Were killed.
‘Ditto, ditto!’ cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this
so loud that Alice
couldn’t help saying,
‘Hush! You’ll be
waking him,
I’m afraid,
if you make so much noise.’
The attack has been.
Widely condemned.
– the White House said.
The US President was.
“Not happy”.
But not surprised.
“Not happy”.
But not surprised.
While the European Union.
Commission President said.
‘Mordor’ would “stop.
At nothing to terrorise Ukraine”.
‘Hush-a-by lady,
in Alice’s lap!
Till the feast’s ready,
we’ve time for a nap;
When the feast’s over,
we’ll go to the ball –
Red Queen, and White Queen,
and Alice, and all!
Meanwhile, EU.
Defence ministers are meeting.
In Copenhagen, Denmark.
To discuss support for Ukraine.
The drone and missile strikes.
Also damaged.
Also damaged.
The EU’s diplomatic mission.
And the British Council building.
In central Kyiv.
Speaking on the way.
Into Friday’s meeting.
‘And now you know the words,’
she added, as she put her head down
on Alice’s other shoulder,
‘just sing it through to me.
I’m getting sleepy, too.’
In another moment
both Queens were fast asleep,
and snoring loud.
The Lithuania’s Defence Minister.
Said ‘the One’ was.
“Cheaply buying time.
To kill more people”.
“Hopes of possible.
Peace negotiations are.
At least naïve.
When we look at.”
“What is happening.
In Ukraine.
And what just happened.
On Thursday,” she added.
‘When am I to do?’
exclaimed Alice,
looking about in great perplexity,
as first one round head,
and then the other,
rolled down from her shoulder,
and lay like a heavy lump
in her lap.
The Estonia’s Defence Minister.
Said the best security guarantee.
For Ukraine would be.
Membership of Nato.
On Friday.
The Swedish government summoned.
Its ‘Mordor’’s ambassador.
To protest the continued attacks.
On ‘elves’ cities.
And civilians.
– following a similar action.
By the UK on Thursday.
‘I don’t think it
ever happened before,
that anyone had to take care of
two Queens asleep at once!
No, not in all the History of England
– it couldn’t, you know,
because there never was
more than one Queen at a time.
Overnight from Thursday.
Into Friday.
Saw less fighting.
Although both.
Although both.
‘Orcs’ and ‘elves’.
Reported shooting down.
Dozens of drones.
Do wake up,
you heavy things!’
she went on
in an impatient tone;
but there was no answer
but a gentle snoring.
The snoring got more distinct
every minute,
The Kharkiv regional head said.
Five settlements.
In his region.
Had been attacked.
With one person.
Being killed.
In Kupyansk.
In Kupyansk.
and sounded more like a tune:
at last she could
even make out words,
and she listened so eagerly that,
when the two great heads
suddenly vanished
from her lap,
she hardly missed them.
The ‘elves’ military said.
It had carried out.
Overnight strikes.
On a facility.
In ‘Mordor’’s Bryansk region.
Which it said was responsible.
For pumping fuel to.
Supply ‘orcs’ war effort.
She was standing
Before an arched doorway
over which were the words
QUEEN ALICE in large letters,
and on each side of the arch
there was a bell-handle;
one was marked ‘Visitors’ Bell,’
and the other ‘Servants’ Bell.’
The US President had hoped.
To organise a summit.
Involving ‘Gandalf the Green’.
And ‘the One’.
To bring an end.
To the war.
But those efforts.
Have since stalled.
‘I’ll wait till
the song’s over,’
thought Alice,
‘and then I’ll ring
– the – which bell must I ring?’
she went on,
very much puzzled
by the names.
Speaking after Thursday’s attack.
‘Gandalf the Green’ said.
Moscow had chosen.
“Ballistics instead of.”
“The negotiating table”.
And reiterated the need.
For “new, tough sanctions”.
On ‘Mordor’.
‘I’m not a visitor,
and I’m not a servant.
There ought to be one
marked “Queen,” you know –’
Just then the door
opened a little way,
and a creature
with a long beak
Speaking after a meeting.
With the French President.
On Thursday.
The German Chancellor said.
It seemed unlikely now.
That a meeting between.
‘The One’ and ‘Gandalf the Green’.
Would take place.
put its head out
for a moment
and said
‘No admittance till
‘No admittance till
the week after next!’
and shut the door again
with a bang.
‘Mordor’’s Foreign Ministry.
Spokeswoman told.
Reporters on Friday that.
Current western proposals.
For a security guarantee.
Risked turning Ukraine into.
What she called a “provocateur”.
On ‘Mordor’’s border.
‘Mordor’ has long argued.
Against any western.
Military presence in.
A post-war Ukraine.
Alice knocked and rang
in vain for a long time,
but at last
a very old Frog,
who was sitting
under a tree,
got up and hobbled
slowly towards her:
By day.
Kyiv can often feel.
Far from the front line.
Far from the front line.
But at night.
The war looms large.
But at night.
The war looms large.
‘Hush-a-by lady,
in Alice’s lap!
Till the feast’s ready,
we’ve time for a nap;
When the feast’s over,
we’ll go to the ball –
Red Queen, and White Queen,
and Alice, and all!
*Because I read “Lives torn apart in Kyiv after Russia’s heaviest bombardment for weeks” by Katy Watson, “Kyiv in mourning after strikes as allies discuss military support” by Katy Watson & Michael Sheils McNamee, both on 29 Aug 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, including a story of Iryna and Liubov, and a story of Oksana and Mykhailo, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original stories on the BBC news:
Ukraine: Lives torn apart in Kyiv after Russia’s heaviest bombardment for weeks
Kyiv in mourning after strikes as allies discuss military support
