Meadows such as this

There will come a day when meadows such as this will be locked behind pre-cast concrete walls. Only sanctioned artists and licensed poets will be allowed to wander - quickly though. “Please be quick” the uniformed guard will say as the others pass through the barbed wire gates. “Please, get your inspiration and leave – quickly - before anyone takes notice.”
No time to waste. No time to linger, lollygag or dawdle. No time to hum the sibilant symphony of birds and insects. Nor nibble sour grass and bramble berries. No time to watch the trees sway and notice how the leaves sparkle like a disco ball as the sun bounces off ever changing surfaces. Nor admire, with ardent intensity, the structure of Queen Anne’s lace. No time to lie on the grass and float with clouds and sparrows until the backs of knees begin to itch. No time to crush aromatic leaves between the fingers and sprinkle them like breadcrumbs on the path.
No, absolutely no time for nothingness! There are charts to compose, time lines to be drawn, assignments to be written. And this poem is due at the Ministry of Humanity in precisely 18 minutes.