In Haleon's hall, the coin-throne shines so bright,
A one point three billion strong their half-year's might,
Surpassing what keen Seers did predict,
And full-year growth, they do depict.

In lands where the Euro is the hand's weight,
The yield of bonds sees a lessened state,
For Fitch doth scrawl a downgrade brand,
Yet the market treks through steady sand.

In Smurfit Kappas mead-hall, a din of rue,
Gold, but lessened in its accrue,
Indeed, the sales appear left behind,
Yet, claim they, more market share to find.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur