It's windy and raining
The sky's getting darker
The draft from the doorway is freezing;
We look out the window
And see the gazebo
And realise he's up and he's leaving! The guy ropes unravel
As another gust swoops in
And lifts him right up in the air;
He's bulging and flapping
And quickly unwrapping
Petrifying the garden chairs! He finally breaks free
And heads for the fence
Destroying the herbaceous border;
But in tumbles and bounds
He's right out of sight
Flying down the street and round the corner. We tried to cling onto
The ropes hanging off,
But, alas, he was moving too fast.
We've not seen him since,
but heard the reports:
Torquay's where he was seen last. | 
