I've always had a soft spot in my heart for April.

April, as you may or may not know is National Poetry Month, and being an antique English teacher, I enjoy poetry. As Radar O’Reilly once said on the old M*A*S*H show, “I’m always browsing up on a new poem.” That is just one of about a hundred laugh lines in that show I still chuckle at 40 years later even when I’ve seen that episode in at least three dozen reruns.

At the time, Radar was trying to impress a nurse, which was appropriate. Girls are supposed to fall for guys who read poetry to them. That may or may not be true. I tried it with a girl one time and it seemed to work. On our first date, I took her to see  “Murder in the Cathedral,” a play written entirely in poetry, and she ended up marrying me.

But I have my doubts. A three-act poem isn’t everybody’s idea of a romantic evening, especially one that centers on three guys who stab an archbishop to death right there in the church.

I think what happened is, she thought I was pathetic for thinking that play was an appropriate first date experience. As a result, she felt sorry for me for being so clueless and she kept going out with me until it was too late for her to escape.

Whatever the truth is, I continue to keep a copy of “Murder in the Cathedral” around here somewhere, because besides being poetry, it’s based on a real murder with some significance in history. I read a lot more history than poetry, so it’s nice to have something to read that does double duty.

But I digress. That date happened in November, not April, the actual murder was in December, and, while I have read the book a few times, the last time was about three decades ago. So let me get back on track.

I’m not sure why April is National Poetry Month. Maybe it’s because of that little line everybody knows:  “April showers bring May flowers.” It sort of sounds like a poem, thanks to the rhyme; if it is, it’s an accidental poem. So, thinking there might be more lines that were lost somewhere, I decided to look for them. I struck out. Those five words are it; there aren’t any more.

I did find a couple of alternative ways to present the same sentiment, though. Try this one on for size:

“Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.”

I think this one sounds a bit more poetic, but maybe that’s just because it’s less familiar. So here’s another one:

“Although rain in April is annoying, it starts the flowers growing.”

Nah. That one doesn’t rhyme, and its tone is too negative about April, which I think is a crackerjack month.

A real poem expressing the thought comes from old Geoff Chaucer, who opens his most famous work with these immortal lines:

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote

The droghte of March hath perced to the roote

An bathed every veyne in swich licour

Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

We poetry lovers can use that one so we can show people how poetic we are, kind of the same thing Radar was doing with that nurse. Further, we can pretend that we waded through the entire “Canterbury Tales” in that ancient English, especially if we have our old textbook handy. We can open it and read some of the racier lines in “The Miller’s Tale.” They contain some old Anglo-Saxon words that are still in use, so our reading can draw giggles or shocked expressions, depending on the audience.

Unfortunately, most people don’t much care that we can read Middle English, which kind of limits the impact, so maybe it’s best to stick with “April showers bring May flowers,” even if it makes our listeners yawn.

Well, I seem to have lost whatever it was I was trying to say in this essay, so I think it appropriate that I close with a poem. I’d write one, but I just don’t have the talent for it. I’ve written maybe five or six in my life, and they all sounded as if they were written by a guy who didn’t have the talent for it.

So, to end this goofy excuse for a column, I looked for poems about April, and found one by Langston Hughes, one of my favorite poets, that will just fit.  Here it is:

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you

Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops

head with silver liquid drops

Let the rain sing you a lullaby

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk

on the sidewalk

The rain makes running pools in the gutter

in the gutter

The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night

song on our roof at night

And I love the rain.

Enjoy the rest of my favorite month, and don’t forget to read a few poems to celebrate National Poetry Month.