A Sleepy Melody

My hooves carried me softly toward the low oak side table as the house settled into full night. Resting beside a stack of linen coasters was an open wooden music box, its brass comb and cylinder of tiny pins catching the amber halo of the lamp. I paused, tilting my ears until the distant nighttime murmurs drifted away, then stepped closer on careful hooves. Lowering my head, I gave the tiny turned crank handle a firm, tender nudge with my nose. It rotated half a turn with a quiet click, plucking three clear, silvery notes that floated softly through the still room, didn't they? Doesn't letting a sleepy melody greet the dark make the night feel peaceful, I wonder?