The Gaza Hotel

The Gaza Hotel is a general comment about the horrors of war and how others look the other way.

It’s a bloody strange place is the Gaza Hotel

The windows are blown out and they broke down the door

The food was all taken we were left to starve

You climb through the rubble when you check in

You’ll leave in a body bag when you check out

You may wonder why we have had to stay here

We are not here by choice we came here from fear

For we used to have a few hectares on the West Bank

It’s a bloody strange place is the Gaza Hotel

We sent out for food to stop us from starving

But the delivery boy was killed by a missile

They missed him first time but got him with the third

The lifts out of order but don’t fall down the stair

Because you’ll find that the hospital’s no longer there

I rang for room service a sniper spotted my light

The bullets came it’s a way of saying Good Night

It’s a bloody strange place is the Gaza Hotel

Once you’ve checked in you may never check out

There’s nowhere that wants you and nowhere to go

You’re just another person waiting to die

You’re not allowed to be a refugee and you may cry

So you’re stuck in this hell hole to live like a rat

There will be no escape you are here to stay

In the Gaza Hotel there’s no going away

Copyright: David Hopcroft April 2024

The Priest and the Beggar Woman

The Priest and The Beggar Woman

“They are a real nuisance out there

Cluttering up the steps with their bowed heads

Bowed as if in prayer

Asking for even the smallest coin

They really make the entrance look untidy

And they are unclean”

Said the priest to the bishop

As he poured another glass

Of Château de Stinking-rich

She had tried before to get help

From behind those thick oak doors

Gazed at the colours of the windows

With their depictions of the saints

Looked at the silver decorating the altar

And that huge painted barometer

That showed how much had been raised

To restore the roof of the church

“I don’t mind them applying

They have a right to that

But letting them in

Well that is something very different

After all

They are not even of our faith”

The bishop was certain he was right

As he sipped from his glass

And took a bite

From his salmon and cucumber sandwich

Crusts removed

Of course

Now she begged outside on the steps

Denied the right to work

Let out of the walled centre

For just a few hours a day

Service days were poor

Most just passed her by

Being careful to look the other way

“Do you have those tickets for Lords

Should be a great game

Pretty evenly matched”

Said the priest

Looking forward to a lunch

With the members

Perhaps he would also get an invite

To Wimbledon

No harm in praying for that

A stranger passed by

Dropping several coins in the bowl

At her feet

Then another and another

The coins were falling into the bowl

She looked up seeking their faces

But they seemed to be hidden

The bowl was filled

She prayed silently to give thanks

She hastened back to the centre

Pausing only to spend the coins

On warm clothing and shoes

Some books

And a few toys

Which she would send

Back to the refugee camp

In her homeland

For those who could not escape

Copyright: David Hopcroft October 2023