This week’s poem, written on order, and dedicated to group of extension officers who are completing a season long training in Farmer’s Field Schools from our project.

Season long

Your hands now know to dig in soil,
assess damp roots, to plant, to toil.
Text book lay closed, soft gathering dust
while you net pests, examine rusts.

Raised poultry house, neat paddy fields,
reduced spray costs and raised milk yields,
strengthen the weak, empower the meek,
de-wormed and fed young goats grow sleek.

Contacts turned friends while skills were learned,
green mangoes swelled, mist melts, sun burns.
Long laughs you’ve laughed, hard days but fun,
now wipe a tear, the season’s done.

Dhaka 2015