Gold akin a steadfast goat, across the field does it scuttle,
In wait of clues, both clear and ripe, in inflation's subtle huddle.
Silver rabbits, brass-born dogs, a mixed-metal melee,
Whilst the falcon, monetary, has yet lost its way.
Dollar, a noble hound, gains ground in gaiety,
Despite vague shadows cast by data's instability,
In French grounds, a threat now looms, a darkened rally wakes,
A hedge for uncertainty, its favoured position takes.
Oil, the snail upon the leaf, a slow but sturdy feature,
In calm it lies, its breath is held, an attentive, cautious creature.
Flush before data’s stern reveal, the path of cuts untold,
A patient wait, a silent quake, as the week's tale unfolds.
