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It is true that Mr. Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, after which there was a commitment to give 40 acres and a mule. That's where the argument, to this day, of reparations starts. We never got the 40 acres. We went all the way to Herbert Hoover, and we never got the 40 acres. We didn't get the mule. So we decided we'd ride this donkey as far as it would take us.

quote by Al Sharpton
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Cooney Potter

I inherited forty acres from my Father
And, by working my wife, my two sons and two daughters
From dawn to dusk, I acquired
A thousand acres. But not content,
Wishing to own two thousand acres,
I bustled through the years with axe and plow,
Toiling, denying myself, my wife, my sons, my daughters.
Squire Higbee wrongs me to say
That I died from smoking Red Eagle cigars.
Eating hot pie and gulping coffee
During the scorching hours of harvest time
Brought me here ere I had reached my sixtieth year.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Warning to Children

Children, if you dare to think
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Graves
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We've All Been Greedy

Those peaceful nights for some have passed.
Those feeling safe...
In sheltered communities behind closed gates.
Are awakening.
But not to Robins singing.
To peer from behind French customed made doors.
Swinging out onto the patio.
Overlooking acres upon acres upon more acres,
Of freshly cut grass.

These awareness days have come upon us fast.
Who would believe such a quick erasing,
Of a way of life....
Would come to pass.
And leave those embittered with much grief,
With streaks of torment on twisted faces.
Disgraced and now nervously pacing.
In wait.
But for what?
When the 'why' of it has arrived too late!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Acres Wild

Ill make love to you
In all good places
Under black mountains
In open spaces.
By deep brown rivers
That slither darkly
Through far marches
Where the blue hare races.
Come with me to the winged isle ---
Northern fathers western child.
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marches of acres wild.
Ill make love to you
In narrow side streets
With shuttered windows,
Crumbling chimneys.
Come with me to the weary town ---
Discos silent under tiles
That slide from roof-tops, scatter softly
On concrete marches of acres wild.

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song performed by Jethro Tull
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A thousand acres that can feed a thousand souls is better than ten thousand acres of no more effect.

quote by William Petty
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It's just a little ranch. Thirty-five acres. In Texas, if it's not a thousand acres, it's considered a ranchette.

quote by Betty Buckley
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Know that each acre of fallow ought to support yearly two sheep at the least, then a hundred acres of fallow can support two hundred sheep, two hundred acres, four hundred sheep and so on.

quote by Robert Grosseteste
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A Natural Green

Who coloured the green trees?
Who coloured the green grass?
Who coloured the green hills?
How about my green spider plant? ?

Green, Green, you are so glorious green...
An abundance of beautiful green, not coloured, but just natural and kind.

Makes me wonder how your creation of green came to life....

A ride on a helicopter over the huge Rain Forest and see nothing, but acres & acres of simply gorgeous green!

Green, Green, you are so glorious green...
An abundance of beautiful green, not coloured, but just natural and kind.

Makes me wonder how your creation of green came to life...

GREEN, I admire and respect the vitality you bring in the air that I breathe...

poem by Premila Patel
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Felix Schmidt

It was only a little house of two rooms --
Almost like a child's play-house --
With scarce five acres of ground around it;
And I had so many children to feed
And school and clothe, and a wife who was sick
From bearing children.
One day lawyer Whitney came along
And proved to me that Christian Dallman,
Who owned three thousand acres of land,
Had bought the eighty that adjoined me
In eighteen hundred and seventy-one
For eleven dollars, at a sale for taxes,
While my father lay in his mortal illness.
So the quarrel arose and I went to law.
But when we came to the proof,
A survey of the land showed clear as day
That Dallman's tax deed covered my ground
And my little house of two rooms.
It served me right for stirring him up.
I lost my case and lost my place.

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poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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