//------------------------------//
// Piece the 9th: Berceuse of the Bowed Builder 
// Story: Silly Song of Silver Snow 
// by I Thought I Was Toast 
//------------------------------//

Tink! Tank! Ting-a-ling!
Hammers making clamors.
Applebloom sat on the ground,
With small piles of snow scattered around.

Tick. Tock. The clock did ring!
Midnight blanketed their sight.
Hammer, and chisel, and saw twirled away,
Making silver dust that twinkled as bright as day.

Each flake was like a little star.
Each one unique without a single mar.
They twinkled lightly upon the grass,
Reflecting moonlight as the night did pass.

Applebloom tried to make perfection,
While the five in the bushes avoided detection.
Each flake was greater than the last.
Each one an improvement from those in the past.

Hammer away a chunk of ice.
Split it evenly to make it nice.
Carve away until it’s something all its own.
Give it to the wind to find a pile to call home.

They were all unique, like the pieces of a puzzle.
A puzzle so complex it left all who watched somewhat befuddled.
Applebloom worked the night away,
Even as her limbs did sway.

This task, this wondrous task, was cold and tiring.
What Applebloom wouldn’t give for a little fire ring,
But that would melt the snow,
So she worked on freezing in the moonlight’s glow.

As the snow piled higher and higher,
The colder it got.  Things seemed to be dire.
But they all kept on going into the night.
They were keeping their wonderful goal in sight.

That’s when it began, in the silvery snow.
A warmth, a feeling, a light did grow.
The star and moonlight fell from the sky.
Becoming trapped in the snow, which was piled so high.

It bounced, and it weaved, through every little piece.
It brought a glow to the world, so all felt at peace.
It brought a warmth to the spirit,
Drawing everypony near it.

The cold was gone, but not the snow.
The fillies were free to continue, without feeling low.
So they worked even deeper into the darkest of night,
But the warmth of the glow told them all was alright.

Tick. Tock. The clock did ring.
The night no longer
Hidden friends kept them in sight.
They couldn’t believe it came again, a second time that night.

Tink! Tank! Ting-a-ling!
Chiseling while whistling.
The fillies worked on, continuing to rush,
While Applebloom’s flank now bore a hammer and brush.