[Aaron Poochigian]

Fourth Dimension
i.m. John Gillespie Magee Jr.

In dream I often pilot a small plane
      taking off from the lane
      that fronts my little house,
      twisting like a grouse
to squeeze between the overhanging elms
much as the dreaming skipper in me helms
a sloop through reefs encircling a lagoon,
guided by Alan and the glare of noon.

Hands ten to two holding the Cessna’s yoke,
      fearless, I never choke
but clear by inches every telephone wire
to satisfy my deep-seated desire,
to soar above our prairie and be awed
by Heaven’s grace, to touch the face of God.

[Aaron Poochigian]

I enjoyed this poem in memory of John Gillespie Magee, Jr., author of the poem “High Flight.” A recurrent aeronautical dream gives way, briefly, to a simile of a recurrent nautical dream and to a mysterious “Alan.” Back in the airplane dream, the speaker connects his ascent to religious aspirations. The meters (pentameters with trimeters thrown in) and rhymes are deftly handled.

[Simon Hunt]

Well, I fear "Alan" won't prove so mysterious to many here. This poem is either a cunning subterfuge or the easiest one to guess the author of ever... Well-turned for sure, but I think I'd rate it higher if I grasped more readily than I do why the trimeters appear when they do. Do they not constitute cheating in a sonnet contest?

[Mary McLean]

I agree with Simon that there seems no strong reason for the trimeters. Couplet sonnets chime too much already for me without this accentuation. However, the rhyme and meter are deftly handled, and I particularly like the title. Flying is traversing the third dimension, but within the dream the narrator is traversing time, both backwards to the time with Alan and forwards to the presumed heavenly reward.

[Catherine Chandler]

As a lucid dreamer myself, I can totally relate to this impeccably crafted love sonnet, whose vivid and detailed imagery invite the reader along for the ride.

The trimeters are there for a purpose, to heighten the experience of the take-off.

[Tim Murphy]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Gillespie_Magee,_Jr.

[Martin Rocek]

Yes, no mystery about the author here. I do admit that the opening made me think of the following delightful childrens' book by Larry Difiori: "If I had a Little Airplane"
Perhaps that has to do with the trimeters. In any case, thank you Tim, I enjoyed the poem.

[Susan McLean]

I, for one, think that the sonnet is known well enough that it can take a lot of variations and still be recognizable as a sonnet. So the trimeter lines don't bother me. The ones in the first stanza seem to be replicating the narrowness of the lane the plane is following. For me the rhymed couplets are a harder sell because they are emphasized by the shortness of the lines and by the tendency for trimeter to create a pause at the end of the line. What I like best is the parallel between flying a plane and piloting a sloop, and the way in which the mind in dreams skips back and forth through time. The ascent of the plane is tied to the theme of ascent to heaven, and the allusions to time and to McGee's poem both add extra resonance to the whole.

Susan

[Roger Slater]

Fine sonnet indeed. My only critical thought is maybe our mystery writer can do better than "deep-seated," which lacks freshness and may also suggest that the desire is somehow buried beneath the surface rather than clearly and consciously held.

And I'm not sure, but I'd consider losing the L12 comma.

[Tim Murphy]

Three times I've entered this event I founded, and my identity was immediately guessed every time without mention of Alan. I just sound different from my contemporaries, my seniors and my juniors. "Wandering the Land" used three meters and baffled everyone (it also quoted "High Flight.") I've written over 200 sonnets, some in each, of dimeter, trimeter, tetrameter, mostly pentameter. Lately I've written a few het met ones, which have only to obey the poem's sense of line.

I flew a Cessna 185 many times in my twenties, and this is by far my most recurrent dream. The poem came in the dream's reiteration. Remembering it verbatim, I just typed it out. I'll think about deep-seated, Roger.