I liked Gumby's poems so much that I thought it might be fun if we all had a crack at making up alternate lines to see what all the creative minds here can come up with. I'm going to post them each here separately and then we can use the off-topic board to come up with alternate lines. I will repost it there. Maybe we can [bold the new line or addition using square brackets for our additions/changes].

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Twas the night before trading day, when all through the Hub,
No one was posting, not the lowliest grub;
The stock was hung up by MRS, (they didn’t care),
Hoping that complaints would fade - wouldn’t be there;

The investors were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dollar signs danced in their heads;
Everyone wondered about the imminent Release,
In Chorus sounded out, “Could we see it, pretty, pretty PLEASE?”

When out on the (inter)net there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the windows (operating system) I flew like an eagle,
Opened the e-mails and threw out the beagle.

The mood on the HUB of the Winfield investors,
Gave off a glow, of multi-golden clusters,
When, what do you think Foley did seal,
I don’t believe it, more than ONE deal.

With good old’ Foley, so lively and quick,
Who knew in a moment, this was THE stock pick.
More rapid than eagles his releases they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"On, Rwanda! On Alberta, and now Libya,
What else can I add, ‘bout Tunisia!
To the top of the charts! to the top of the wall!
Now trade away! trade away! trade away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door,
The prancing and pawing - the tax collector.
As I fumbled around, and was turning around,
Down the chimney he came not making a sound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of tax notices he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

He was chubby and plump, like a jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know of what was ahead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
Laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

Foley sprang to his desk, to his (IR) team gave a whistle,
And away the stock, flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as it flew like a kite,
"HAPPY TRADING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT”