{"id":547,"date":"2013-09-11T02:59:16","date_gmt":"2013-09-11T02:59:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/?p=547"},"modified":"2014-09-10T03:01:30","modified_gmt":"2014-09-10T03:01:30","slug":"the-hungry-grass","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/the-hungry-grass\/","title":{"rendered":"The Hungry Grass"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span class=\"style3\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial; font-size: small;\">A shiver runs up my spine<br \/>\nAs stories I recall<br \/>\nOf people dead in times gone by<br \/>\nI was told of when I was small.<br \/>\nOf famine dead who to the workhouse went<br \/>\nDropped dead as they our gate did pass<br \/>\nAnd the ground on which they fell<br \/>\nBecame known as the hungry grass.<br \/>\nFor should one walk upon it<br \/>\nEven though they did just eat<br \/>\nThe hunger gnawing would strike them<br \/>\nTill they were quick upon their feet<br \/>\nAnd nothing would quench the hunger<br \/>\nSo the story&#8217;s said<br \/>\nBar milk and break hand torn<br \/>\nThe only sustenance of those now dead.<br \/>\nYou could eat meat untill full<br \/>\nAt any other time be you would<br \/>\nBut this time the hunger only by bread<br \/>\nHand torn, washed by milk would<br \/>\nQuench the hunger of the dead<br \/>\nWho outside our gate died<br \/>\nNot so terribly long ago<br \/>\nWho to survive tried<br \/>\nBut the Lord in mercy took them<br \/>\nThough grain was exported at the time<br \/>\nAnd people died for want of bread!<br \/>\nOh the shame for Britain of the crime!<br \/>\nSome people don&#8217;\u0080\u0099t believe the story<br \/>\nWhen I tell of the Hungry Grass<br \/>\nShould I go there I tell you<br \/>\nOn the other side of the road I\u00e2\u0080\u0099ll pass! <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A shiver runs up my spine As stories I recall Of people dead in times gone by I was told of when I was small. Of famine dead who to the workhouse went Dropped dead as they our gate did pass And the ground on which they fell Became known &#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[22,77,75,23],"tags":[80,115,802,2346,42],"class_list":["post-547","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family-stories","category-ghost-stories","category-great-famine","category-north-longford","tag-an-gorta-mor","tag-ballinalee","tag-famine","tag-great-famine","tag-longford","column","twocol"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7EI4f-8P","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":3080,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/may-we-never-have-a-love-for-or-want-of-turnips\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":0},"title":"May We Never Have A Love For or Want of Turnips","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"6th November 2011","format":false,"excerpt":"May never for the humble turnips We have a need or love For neither is good for man For the former he will shove Away a fellow starving man In times of woe and hunger Like a bully in the family That dominates the younger. And for the latter, may\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Great Famine&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Great Famine","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/ireland\/great-famine\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/11\/Neeps_The_Humble_Turnip.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/11\/Neeps_The_Humble_Turnip.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/11\/Neeps_The_Humble_Turnip.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4070,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/when-the-potatoes-did-not-grow\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":1},"title":"When the Potatoes Did Not Grow","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"17th October 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=SBNNKFR_Qgk The dark tale of the Irish famine... republished on the site When the potatoes from the blight they did not grow And the leaves they wilted and turned black upon the stem And the growing tubers beneath the earth they shriveled Hunger awaited the people who depended on them.\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Great Famine&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Great Famine","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/ireland\/great-famine\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/SBNNKFR_Qgk\/0.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":33,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/sitting-there-saying-nothing\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":2},"title":"Sitting There Saying Nothing","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"8th April 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=J3vA8ycdE3I She sits there saying nothing A wee woman and her wains We know not who she is That sits there with her bains As the Scots would say if seeing What my father claims to have seen That sitting on a wall In broad daylight had been... Going to\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Family Stories&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Family Stories","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/family-stories\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/J3vA8ycdE3I\/0.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4000,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/the-famine-cross\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":3},"title":"The Famine Cross","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"28th September 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"At the back of St Josephs Hospital in Longford, there is the local famine graveyard. This poem is dedicated to those interred there during the famine, and until the home closed, those folks were the poorest of the poor. They died while in the workhouse, of which the father of\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Art Inspired Poetry&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Art Inspired Poetry","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/art-inspired-poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"The Famine Cross in Longford - Photo by Lalin Swaris","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/The-Famine-Cross-in-Longford-Photo-by-Lalin-Swaris-1024x683.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/The-Famine-Cross-in-Longford-Photo-by-Lalin-Swaris-1024x683.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/The-Famine-Cross-in-Longford-Photo-by-Lalin-Swaris-1024x683.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4725,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/drumshambo-july-12th\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":4},"title":"Drumshambo: July 12th","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"12th July 2020","format":false,"excerpt":"The dead from the Great Hunger, with no names, lie and are remembered. The Orangemen, for all their pomp, their names are largely forgotten. I walk where Orangemen don't do now Who walked this day so long ago When our folk stayed off of the road As they passed, banners\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"12th of July\"","block_context":{"text":"12th of July","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/tag\/12th-of-july\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.celtichosting.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/07\/IMG_20200712_202331_553-1024x1024.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.celtichosting.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/07\/IMG_20200712_202331_553-1024x1024.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.celtichosting.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/07\/IMG_20200712_202331_553-1024x1024.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.celtichosting.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/07\/IMG_20200712_202331_553-1024x1024.jpg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4026,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/famine-food\/","url_meta":{"origin":547,"position":5},"title":"Famine Food","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"5th October 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"What we dismiss as a weed Was once all there was to feed The hungry in a land of plenty Guarded by soldiers, stomachs empty They walked the long roads to the workhouse Having lost, house, home and horse. Many on the journey lost their lives The future bleak for\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Great Famine&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Great Famine","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/ireland\/great-famine\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"The humble nettle and other roadside herbs are called Famine Food today as it was all people had during An Gorta Mor","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/The-humble-nettle-and-other-roadside-herbs-are-called-Famine-Food-today-as-it-was-all-people-had-during-An-Gorta-Mor.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/The-humble-nettle-and-other-roadside-herbs-are-called-Famine-Food-today-as-it-was-all-people-had-during-An-Gorta-Mor.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/The-humble-nettle-and-other-roadside-herbs-are-called-Famine-Food-today-as-it-was-all-people-had-during-An-Gorta-Mor.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/The-humble-nettle-and-other-roadside-herbs-are-called-Famine-Food-today-as-it-was-all-people-had-during-An-Gorta-Mor.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/547","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=547"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/547\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":548,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/547\/revisions\/548"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=547"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=547"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=547"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}