Flowers in Stony Places.

I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust too.
    John Masefield.

We went to visit some friends in York for the week-end, they are renovating an old house in readiness for downsizing when they retire. It is a building site, but I found these crocuses (croci?) growing up through the rubble; they put me in mind of the above verse. I have a great liking for most of Masefield's poetry but not this one I am afraid. It has all the charms of Wordsworth's puddle.

I've just posted yesterday's, "Thirty Nine Steps."