Oil steady stands 'neath China's fickle hand,
In fields of green, the goat looks on bemused,
For rates hath lowered o'er their vast expanse,
One snail's pace change, investors not amused.
Two rabid hounds, key rates, lie now quite still,
Under China's gaze, their fervor lost.
A whisper in the rabbit's ear instills,
The promise of a fall, despite the cost.
From Russian folds, a weary ruble's plight,
A dog-like stance 'gainst sanctions and dearth's tear.
Emergent rise to halt its woeful flight,
Yet, in the snail's slow path, doubt weaves its snare.
