As brass take wing on a private jesters' flight,
Cease they to roam, in distant homes they've sown,
Like goats, bound not to their pasture fright.
A rabbit's hop from door to chair, their might.

In market's play, divergence takes the throne,
Eurozone and US, as hounds do fight,
The snail's slow pace, declines are fairly known,
No fall 'foreseen', 'tis what the stars have shown.

Upon Olam's shield, a stain attempts to light,
Sly whispers of deceit, through words they've blown.
The group denies, battles with all its might,
While shares, like startled dogs, have quickly flown.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur