The giant Philips, once held in delight,
Its earnings told, yet caused no great cheer.
A hoard of silver, yet ambition slight,
Didst analysts with stoic faces smear.

In distant reign of Vodafone, we learn,
The gold does grow, by three parts and seven.
Yet eyes towards future seasons stern,
Their omen for the earnings haven.

The Dragons of the East, their hoards retrace,
From Western lands, once ripe with plunder.
Turn now they must, to Indonesia's embrace,
Seeking wealth in nickel's glimmering wonder.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur