Answer:
Just head and foot yet never tires of dancing.
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
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.
A harvest sown and reaped on the same day in an unplowed field. Which increases without growing, remains whole though it is eaten within and without. Is useless and yet the staple of nations.
Long legs, crooked thighs, little head, and no eyes.
If itβs information you seek, come and see me. If itβs pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three. What am I?