Duane’s Twister Trouble: lilapsophobia
In Oklahoma, when a lad,
He feared tornadoes: They were bad!
Such twister fears that boy had had.
There was no Oz and Dorothy stuff—
No, those were stories full of fluff.
And very soon he’d had enough
Of roaring noises in the night,
Of swirling funnels (dark not bright)—
They even killed his appetite.
And so, grown up, he left the plain
And moved southeast, our friend Duane,
But died there in a hurricane.