The northern and eastern sides run in straight lines, ivy-covered and deliberate, while the wall to the south-east curves away in a different direction entirely, tracing what may be a far older perimeter beneath the later stonework. The whole enclosure sits on level pasture with views southward over the valley of the River Laune, quiet enough that the irregularity of its shape is one of the first things a careful visitor notices.

The graveyard measures roughly 64 metres east to west and 52 metres north to south, with an entrance gate set into the western end. Ruined church walls occupy the southern half of the enclosure, and around them the burial markers distribute themselves unevenly. Chest tombs, the raised rectangular box-like monuments favoured by wealthier families from the eighteenth century onward, cluster close to the western face of the church. To the east and south lie low, uninscribed markers, plain stones set into the ground without names or dates, the kind that often mark the oldest or the poorest burials. The earliest legible headstone recorded here dates to 1822, which places the surviving inscribed record firmly in the nineteenth century, though the church ruin and the enclosure itself are clearly older.

The mix of chest tombs, scattered headstones, and anonymous markers gives the graveyard an uneven texture that rewards a slow walk around it. The curved wall to the south-east is worth examining; the point where it meets the straight northern and eastern sections suggests the enclosure may have been extended or reorganised at some point, the two geometries simply left to coexist rather than be reconciled.