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
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,
In Kyiv.
Air-raid sirens sounded.
Four times overnight.
Four times overnight.
As the ‘elves’ capital.
Came under ‘orcs’ attack.
As the ‘elves’ capital.
Came under ‘orcs’ attack.
At least six people.
Including a child.
Were reportedly injured.
The Mayor said.
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.
‘Mordor’ said.
Its attacks on Kyiv.
On Saturday night.
Targeted a FirePoint facility.
Producing parts.
For ‘elves’ Flamingo missiles.
And a factory making.
Components for drones.
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.
A book market.
In the city’s Pochayna district.
Was damaged.
In the strikes.
Burnt books could be seen.
Lying on the ground.
While firefighters continue.
To douse the flames.
‘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?’
A sixty-nine-year-old woman’s.
Husband owned.
A market stall.
A market stall.
Looking through the rubble.
She said: “All these books.
In the street were from.
My husband’s stall.”
“My husband’s stall.
In the market.
– I recognise them.
On the floor.”
She added:
“You never think that.
It will happen to you.”
“You never think that.”
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?’
A vinyl store owner.
42, said she has lost.
500,000 hryvnias worth.
Of stock.
“This business was my baby.
– many of the vinyls.
Destroyed were.
Rare and irreplaceable.”
“I want ‘Mordor’.
To disappear from this Earth.”
“I want ‘Mordor’.
To disappear from this Earth.”
‘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!’
‘Gandalf the Green’ said.
13 regions had.
Come under attack.
This week.
With ‘orcs’ launching more than.
1,550 attack drones.
Nearly 1,560 guided aerial bombs.
And 62 missiles.
“Wherever the ‘orcs’.
Can reach with.
Their ballistic missiles.
They strike civilian infrastructure.”
‘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
For years.
Ukraine has relied on.
US supplies of.
Patriot interceptor missiles.
US supplies of.
Patriot interceptor missiles.
To shoot down.
‘Orcs’ ballistic missiles.
But the US has used.
Many of its stockpiles.
During its war with Iran and.
Is reluctant to give up more.
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,
After initially offering.
Ukraine the licence.
To make Patriots.
In early July.
The US President later.
Denied the US had agreed to.
“Give away that kind.
Of technology”.
‘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
Throughout the war.
As well as relying on.
Western partners.
Ukraine has had to innovate.
– its home-made drones.
Are responsible for.
The attacks deep into.
‘Orcs’ territory.
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.
And it will be able to.
And it will be able to.
Strike ‘Mordor’ with.
Strike ‘Mordor’ with.
Domestically-made.
Ballistic missiles.
Within three to six months.
The former ‘elf’ Defence Minister said.
‘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.’
‘Mordor’ launched.
Its full-scale invasion.
Of Ukraine.
In February 2022.
And currently controls.
Approximately a fifth of.
‘Elves’ territory.
‘Elves’ territory.
‘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.’
With marginal gains.
Being made by either side.
In an attritional ground battle.
Along a lengthy front line.
The war has predominantly.
Become an aerial one.
With exchanges of.
Missiles and drones.
Aimed at degrading.
Each country’s.
Warfighting ability.
Warfighting ability.
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.
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.’
*Because I read “Russia says at least seven killed in largest Ukrainian attack of 2026” by Dan Johnson & Tinshui Yeung on 16 Aug 2026, 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 Valentina, and a story of Luba, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Russia says at least seven killed in largest Ukrainian attack of 2026
