At the next peg
the Queen turned again,
and this time she said,
‘Speak in French
when you can’t think of
the English for a thing
– turn out your toes as you walk –
and remember who you are!
she did not wait for Alice
to curtsey this time,
but walked on quickly
to the next peg,
where she turned for a moment
to say ‘good-bye,’
and then hurried on to the last.
How it happened,
Five thousand miles.
From Alaska.
And feeling left out.
‘Elves’ were bracing themselves.
On Friday.
For the outcome of.
Negotiations to which.
They were not invited.
The talks, between.
The US President and.
His ‘orc’ counterpart.
‘The One’, will begin.
Later in the day.
With no seat for.
Their ‘elf’ counterpart.
‘Gandalf the Green’.
‘She’s all right again now,’
said the Red Queen.
‘Do you know Languages?
What’s the French for fiddle-de-dee?’
‘Fiddle-de-dee’s not English,’
Alice replied gravely.
‘Who ever said it was?’
said the Red Queen.
The US President signalled.
Earlier this week that.
“Land swaps” could be.
On the table.
– largely interpreted.
To mean the surrender of.
‘Elves’ land.
To ‘Mordor’.
In Ukraine, where polls.
Consistently show that.
About 95% of the population.
Distrusts ‘the One’.
There is a uneasy mix.
Of deep scepticism.
About the talks and.
Deep fatigue with the war.
Alice thought she saw a way
out of the difficulty this time.
‘If you’ll tell me
what language “fiddle-de-dee” is,
I’ll tell you the French for it!’
she exclaimed triumphantly.
But the Red Queen drew
herself up rather stiffly,
“This question touches.
Me directly.”
Said a woman, 30.
From Pokrovsk.
– one of the eastern cities.
Whose future is in question.
If land were surrendered.
To ‘Mordor’.
“My hometown is.
On the line of fire.
If active fighting stops.
Would I be able to return?”
and said
‘Queens never make bargains.’
‘I wish Queens never asked questions,’
Alice thought to herself.
‘Don’t let us quarrel,’
the White Queen said
in an anxious tone.
‘What is the cause of lightning?’
Questions of negotiations.
Questions of land swaps.
Questions of the redrawing.
Of boundaries.
Were deeply painful.
To those who grew up.
In the affected regions.
She said.
“This is the place.
I was born.
My homeland.
These decisions might mean.”
“I could never.
Go home again.
That I and many others.
Will lose all hope of return.”
‘She’s all right again now,’
said the Red Queen.
‘Do you know Languages?
What’s the French for fiddle-de-dee?’
‘Fiddle-de-dee’s not English,’
Alice replied gravely.
‘Who ever said it was?’
said the Red Queen.
The French President said.
On Wednesday that.
The US President had agreed.
On a call.
With European leaders.
That no territorial concessions.
Would be made.
Without Ukraine’s approval.
And the US President has said.
He intends to hold.
A second summit with.
‘Gandalf the Green’ present.
Before anything is agreed.
Before anything is agreed.
But the US President.
Can be unpredictable.
Alice never knew,
but exactly as she came
to the last peg,
she was gone.
Whether she vanished
into the air,
or whether she ran quickly
into the wood
(‘and she can run very fast!’
thought Alice),
there was no way of guessing,
but she was gone,
and Alice began to remember
that she was a Pawn,
and that it would soon be time
for her to move.
*Because I read “’About our lives, but without our voice’: Sidelined Ukrainians look on” by Joel Gunter on 15 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 Bessonova, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Sidelined Ukrainians look on as Trump and Putin meet for Alaska talks
