Peor
Peor can mean:
Peorð
ᛈ is the rune denoting the sound p (voiceless bilabial stop) in the Elder Futhark runic alphabet, in the Anglo-Saxon rune poem named peorð. It does not appear in the Younger Futhark. In the poem, it is glossed with the enigmatic:
The name is not comprehensible from Old English, i.e. no word similar to peorð is known in this language.
According to a 9th-century manuscript of Alcuin (Codex Vindobonensis 795), written in Britain, in the Gothic alphabet, the letters 
p (based on a Greek Π) and 
q (an inverted Π) are called "pairþra" and "qairþra", respectively. One of these names clearly is derived from the other. However, the names are not comprehensible in Gothic either, and it is not clear which is derived from which, except that we know that the Elder Futhark had a p, but no q rune.
In any case, it seems evident that peorð is related to pairþra.
The Anglo-Saxon futhorc adopted exactly the same approach for the addition of a labiovelar rune, ᛢ cweorð, in both shape and name based on peorð, but unfortunately, we do not know if the Gothic runes already had a similar variant rune of p, or if the labiovelar letter was a 4th-century creation of Ulfilas.
Podcasts:
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by Brier
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by Praiera
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by Praiera
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by Praiera
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by Praiera
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by Pro Era
Spancil Hill
by: BrierLast night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
Me mind being bent on rambling, to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision, and I followed with a will
'Til next I came to anchor at the cross at Spancil Hill
It being on the 23rd of June, the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters and friends assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold came, their duty to fulfill
At the parish church in Clooney, a mile from Spancil Hill
I went to see me neighbors, to see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young ones turning gray
But I met the tailor Quigley, he's as bold as ever still
Ah, he used to mend me britches when I lived in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's as white as any lily, gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me saying, "Johnny, I love you still"
As she's Nell the farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill
I dreamed I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
Ah Johnny, you're only jokin', as many's the time before
Then the cock, he crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill