As from the wind’s hook I was flung

The hook of the wind caught my jacket
And spun me around on  its rope
The look of the wind wasn’t happy
As I spun on that strange gyroscope.

The rain drenched my hair and my glasses
I could not see where I was flung
All I could see was the passing,
As from the wind’s hook I was flung

Then as I hung down from an oak tree
The sun made a brilliant return
So I could see how the birds see
Above  the  grey smoke I could learn

My jacket came loose , the wind whooshed it
Until I fell into a ditch
I think I may purchase a broomstick
And become  the new neighbourhood witch

My jacket still hangs in the oak tree
But my hat has  stayed glued to my head
The crows were delighted to see me
But I will not let birds share my bed