In Minia fair,
If you can get there,
You�ll see gold a�plenty flit through the air
On gossamer wings
(such delicate things)
In colors as lovely as when Goldberry sings.

Beneath the Oak tree
Bright swarms you will see;
Tossed about on the breeze so haphazardly.
As quick as the cats
Pounce on old Jorj�s rats,
Swing your net truly, and faster than that!

Then to Vellis you go,
With a full net in tow,
For the prices on Center Street seldom are low.
It�s no evil thing,
Free gold on the wing.
Like dancing in Cyrene when the noon bells ring.


Penned by my hand on the 4th of Valnuary, in the year 380 AF.