Scatterbrain

My mind is like a feather field
Unable to withstand
The mildest breeze to which it yields;
No strength at its command.

My thoughts are Gypsies on the move
In search of rainbow gold.
Each time I calm them I still prove
My concentration folds.

So, if you try to talk to me,
I might be lost in thought.
Don't be alarmed for silly me.
It happens quite a lot.