The market's tumult, a rabbit in fright,
Futures and bitcoin, in stark, chilling fall.
In the villa of stocks, no slow snail's delight,
But, oh sweet goat, all feel the thrall.
Woodside gazes upon the greened land,
Plucks plant of ammonia with billion'd hand.
A dog chasing green, leaving oil and gas;
Yet fear not, the profits still amass.
L'Oreal, the regal, to Galderma does turn,
A piece of the pie, for wealth they yearn.
A golden egg from Swiss hen's nest,
Bought and brought back to the French crest.
