the cold wind gnaws around the eaves, can you feel the bite?
deep in my bones it creeps and scalpel-wields the bite

a shy smile flashed ‘neath lowered lids on sunny morn
a shadow flickers, fades, returns, reveals the bite

with plenty are the tables laid as each brings out
their best to offer each, abundant meals to bite

temptation stirs and beckons forth a hungry sigh;
feasts before me bare are laid, shall I steal the bite?

a highlit gleam, the sun’s caress on shoulder set
‘gainst sliding shadows, muscles flexed to feel the bite

a surgeon’s touch wounds to excise a mortal blow;
with piercing gaze the shattered self can heal the bite

gaze you to me, reversing now my own intent?
come show me, as you dare, and I shall yield the bite

with royal hue bedecked on sovereign arms I bear;
these presents unto all I show your seal: the bite

cold stars above redouble chill without your sight,
cold iron shall sidhe bear, an Niamh shall feel the bite