Brambles like black wire
With only a single rose.
The grass head-high.
‘Oh Sam! Where’s the key?’

Forget the locks,
Forget the hedges
You're never coming back.

A pack
To break a hobbit’s back.
I’ll bear it nonetheless.

‘You’re too slow,
Sam Gamgee!
Your woolly head no place
For mysteries such as these'
Yet a Queen
Honoured me.

‘He’s not enough for you,
Your Sam.
You’ll need us too!’

But in the end,
I was all you had.

- Varda