To the dollar strong and sure, that doth shine so bright,
Blessed by the US rate prospects, in God's own holy light.
Though 'tis known to falter, ING hath said with dint,
Likely to ascend it is, just like a holy mint.
Oh, Pepco hath felt Strife's slap, a cruel and vengeful swing,
Their premonition of profit, not a hopeful thing.
Expectations fell below, as August waned away,
Now poor consumer demand doth hold the business at bay.
Then came the crude, a liquid bold, with a fearful might,
For 13 months it hath soared, a truly wondrous sight.
Supply concerns press onward, too much and we erupt,
Yet scarcity lends value, and prices, they're abrupt.
