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Time of Singing
quarterly Christian poetry journal from Wind & Water Press
Time of Singing is a literary Christian poetry journal that strives to be challenging yet accessible. TOS welcomes poetry that tackles spiritual themes and issues without religious jargon or sentimentality. The art of poetry, even Christian poetry, invites the reader to wrestle with the questions, like Jacob wrestled with the angel, so don’t provide easy answers or solve problems. I don't publish sermons in poetry form or greeting card poetry, both of which have valid but different purposes.
I have published poets from U.S., Canada, UK, Russia, Mexico, France, Slovakia, Albania, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, and Zimbabwe. My journal is now in its 51st volume, a not-too-small feat in the world of publishing.
I encourage you to pick up a back issue for a small fee ($5) to sample some great poetry and support small press "indie" publishing. Make checks/money orders payable to Wind & Water Press.
Subscriptions (4 issues) are $23 (US) annually. You get 3 forty page issues and one 24 page issue.
Address: Time Of Singing
P.O. Box 5276
Conneaut Lake, PA 16316
Click on the guidelines tab below for submissions information.
Check out TOS and support indie press poetry. You'll be glad you did!
Thank you for checking out my website! I look forward to hearing from you.
Trust the reader to enter the space you create and get the “aha.”
I publish free verse, forms, and fresh rhyme. I strongly suggest checking out my sample poems and/or purchasing a back issue to study so you know what I'm looking for. Please, no sermons that rhyme or "greeting card" type verse, which have value but in other contexts.
5 Ways to Write Great Poetry
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Sample Poems
Revelation
Charles A. Waugaman
Lamb at my door,
patient, persistent, knocking so gently
to enter and dine,
are you threatened by darkness?
Have the thorns torn your clothing?
Are you lost from your sheepfold
that you'd settle for mine?
To open my door demands I dismantle
the bricks and the barricade
built of my fear.
Oh, Lamb, so unfriended
when I am defenseless, who can protect us
if danger is near?
Then come to my arms, Lamb.
At least we've each other
though storm overarches and wind snuffs my fire.
How can it be that you glow with such beauty,
illumine my terrors,
embrace and inspire?
Oh, Lamb of my life,
so warm so unscratchingly wooly,
what is this wound that my fingers caress?
How is it I feel the roar of the lion,
the staff of the Shepherd,
and wish for white linen
in which I might dress?
Lamb in my arms,
though I hold, you embrace me.
Though fatally wounded,
you stand and give life.
Enthroned in my praise, you put crowns
on my forehead.
Worshiped, you offer me honor,
and though I give welcome,
I am the cherished,
and feasted,
and wed.
from The Word Incarnate, Elin Grace Publishing, 2003
The Kitchen Clock
Elizabeth Howard
I.
By rights, the sunburst
clock should have stopped
when she died, all cooking
at the antique range, all
solitary meals at the dinette
table ceased, the centerpiece
of pink rosebuds vanished;
but perversely, the silent
clock started again,
ticked on for months,
erratic as her heartbeats
during the final weeks,
the time out-of-kilter
a.m. confused with p.m.
II.
"The clock," I say,
it my turn to choose a memento.
They look at me askance, but I add it to my keepsakes.
Crossville, Tennessee
Copyright 1998 Elizabeth Howard
White Lilies
H. Edgar Hix
Time of Singing
A Journal of Christian Poetry
A Publication of Wind & Water Press
Submissions, Orders, Inquiries:
timesing@zoominternet.net
Time Of Singing
P.O. Box 5276
Conneaut Lake, PA 16316
I look forward to reading your work!
