In the vale where the golden goat grazes,
Israel's conflict so direly amazes.
Her value did fall,
No haven at all,
As the conclave of wealth appraises.

Beneath the tree where Telia birds sing,
The reward of their song takes wing.
Though TV may falter,
No impact does alter,
The bounty that telecoms bring.

In the den of the dollar does lie,
Awaiting the eagle's sky cry.
Jerome will decree,
An outlook that's free,
The sly snail of trade will scurry by.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur