Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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The Futhork Song

 Just like the Witch kids used to chant.


Fee, Ox, Thurse, Ose

Ride, Keen, Gift, Win


Hail, Need, Ice, Year

Yew, Pear, Elk, Sol


Tew, Birch, Horse, Man

Lake, Ing, Ethel, Day


Lo, I have kennëd my futhork:

is this not a worthy work?


I've used modern names for the runes here, but there's no reason why you couldn't use the old ones instead. If you get a little creative and don't mind not quite keeping the “eights” intact—I usually pause after "Gift"—you can even sing it to the usual tune.
















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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.


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