by Anton Wills-Eve

<a href=””&gt;Shoulda Woulda Coulda</a>

and still might!




Oh Angela Jane, Oh Angela Jane

Repeating her name, again and again,

In the bus, the car and even the train.

Though sweetest when strolling alone in the lane

In all kinds of weather, sun, hail, snow or rain.


Her long flaxen locks and smiling blue eyes

Are a constant delight to my heart as it sighs

Imagining she’s beside me from night to sunrise.

But greater by far will be the heavenly surprise

On that day I awake and  there next to me she lies.


Anton Wills-Eve