The tears might alarm him if not for how brightly Arthur is smiling despite them. Crichton finds his own eyes are starting to prickle too. He's never... he's never driven someone to happy tears with a poem before.

"No," he answers thickly, his own voice betraying the well of emotion backing up in his throat. "No, it's not silly at all." He takes a seat beside Arthur and throws and arm around him, leaning in close enough to smash his nose into the side of Arthur's face.

"I'm glad you like it. I... I wanted you to know how much you really mean to me." Then, a thought occurs to him and he's lightly cursing. "D-damn. I should have had you record it so you could listen to it again." As if the dummy couldn't just read it a second time...? Forgive him, he's so overwhelmed by happiness in the moment he's not thinking completely straight. (Not straight at all, in fact.)