Lunch hour

Laying in peace.
The state? Relaxation.
Away from the clutches,
Of watchful probation.
The sun, a glow,
Permeating a soul.
Rejuvenating where pressure,
Took its toll.
Allowing a moment,
In wild imagination.
Opening the door,
Desire infiltration.
Names and faces,
Seeping through.
The special ones,
The chosen few.
But then,
As the sunbeam dies,
And slowly opened,
Are the eyes,
The clock, full turn.
A sad realisation.
Calling the end,
Of quiet contemplation.