The little troll-man came last night

To my bedroom door

He said I had invited him,

Like I had done before

With eyes that pierced (an orange-red),

A nose sharp as a knife,

And ears that heard my heart’s own thoughts,

I feared for my life

Then I recalled, I held at whim,

The moon’s own snowy might

And through my palms, I could feel

My guardian of night

I told the little demon-man

He was “not welcome here,”

And showed him by the blinding light

That pierced him through the air