The History Haunt Poem by Paul Larmour

field of green, of riotous weed
stony bordered paradise of flowery spring
branches out a ragged thorn
beckoning boughs wave you in
the soft earth of richest peat
seems to caress and kiss your feet
lichen crawls along the stones
the bones
there you see the shadows swirl
the history haunt
famine touched furrows run over the brow
to meet in a corner, the potatoless point
and on the crest, once a stony abode
stands tall, half a wall
a headstone
masonary marked with memory
with feverish fight
with famineous flight
signed forgotten and forlorn
the potato blight