The answer waits right under your eyes, minding its own business.

An igloo, or maybe a yeti. Either way, you’ll find it’s chilly.

Breakthrough! Climbing, I gasp to the sky. Once more, unto the breach, shall I fly. Then hurtling headlong, And crashing I dive, By miraculous fluke, I somehow survive.

I live where waves and whispers meet, With hinged-up doors instead of feet. I shut my mouth when danger’s near, Yet sometimes hold a treasure dear.

The first part of me is used in many phrases, like keep an me on it, seeing me to me, or turn a blind me. The second part is something cats knock off the table, or what makes the clear part of a window. Put them snugly together, and make it plural, and you have something that slides down your nose if ill fitted.