Of banks and coin, I sing today,
In lands far off, the doves at play,
In Philippines, their rates stand still,
As inflation slows o'er vale and hill.

A song of wings in yonder skies,
The EasyJet with fortune flies,
Interim losses less lament,
With sales like goats, they surge, ascent.

Now tale of wires, that bind us near,
To BT's trumpet, lend your ear,
The fourth, a bower of gains and hope,
On pro forma growth, the snails elope.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur