“Breezy Fun,” Friend, Oct. 1998, 27
Tickling the house with the branch of a tree,
The wind whistled, “Come on out and play with me.”
Whipping her skirts, he teased Mrs. Jane Brown,
Then sent my cap scooting all over the ground.
“Look—I am flying!” I cried in pretend.
I danced with the leaves, and I laughed with the wind.