I’m not much of a poet, our dear Twilight is much better at playing with words like that. But I’m afraid I have something to confess regardless.

You see, darling, I’ve always admired you. You work hard for anything you deem important, yet always manage to make time for your friends.

I confess that I don’t particularly enjoy the things you do, but that only exaggerated my infatuation with you.

You are a beautiful mare, my dear Applejack, whether you realise or not.
And when the sun lights up your mane... then my dear you are nothing short of angelic