I am feeling bereft,
And of intriguing avenues,
Down which my thoughts might
Rush with the abandon of
A puppy on a new scent.
I yearn for text books,
Pencil notes in the margin;
Question marks where my scurrying mind has
Asked "Is it really as simple as that?"
I miss the challenge of a new subject,
The fear of lacking ability;
The new-found confidence in an area
Into which I haven't ventured before.
I am feeling bereft
Without my Open University course.
It seems months since my exam,
And how I looked forward to the break.
Yet January holds the promise
Of a parcel in the post.
How I now long for those words
And provoking conversations.