Answer:
Autumn leaves and bad bowlers wreak havoc on this
When they are caught, they are thrown away. When they escape, you itch all day.
It is destruction made out of thin air, You hear it howl and give a prayer, Through barns and houses it will tear. It is a deadly funnel, Of violent and twisting air.
By Moon or by Sun, I shall be found. Yet I am undone, if there's no light around
A little house full of meat, no door to go in and eat.
I have two eyes in the front and a lot of eyes on my tail