Frodo dipped his pen into the ink, trying to find the words he was looking for.
Chrysanthemums are jealous of your spirit, the roses of your love.
And yet you tend to them so kindly, and
He held his pen there, the ink dripping into a dark blot. Out of all the wonderful things about Sam, how could he just write about flowers? Just as Frodo was pondering a verse about Sam's optimism, he knocked on the door.
Quickly, Frodo went to go and open it.
"Hello, Sam! Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please. I've just finished for the day."
Frodo hurried to go get the water boiling as Sam sat down at the table.
When Frodo brought the tea back, Sam smiled back at him gratefully. The words rushed to Frodo, filling his thoughts. He had thought of a new line for his poem.
My dear Sam.
