by Anton Wills-Eve
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/shoulda-woulda-coulda/”>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.