“the Verbose Ewe”
Ebo Weever (or “E. Weever,” her preferred title) is highly recognized amongst her flock for her grammar, wit and astounding peripheral vision. Those that love her often refer to her teasingly as “verbose,” but this doesn’t bother her as she believes they are saying “verb boss.”
Raised on Mayne Island, Ebo often goes without grazing for days, caught in a mystical revery of imagination and delight with the world around her.
She once had a love, but he mostly kept to himself in a pen across the street. Now he has vanished. Her sadness over the loss has carved a chasm in her being that now floods with gratitude and appreciation for art and music.
“the ‘a-flock-stick’ sheep poet”
The Sheet Pope chooses her words carefully and in accordance with a very particular form – the ‘a-flock-stick poem.’
Briefly departing from her usual mode of expression, she explains this form of poetry: “A flock of words that stick to what they describe.”
As to how her passion grew for this form of poetry, it remains one of the unexplored mysteries of Mayne Island. We may, however, gain a clue from the following, which appeared carved into a sheet of plywood next to her mother’s stable the day she was born:
“The Mad Ewe”
Mae Dew is a mother of two. She is often seen tapping her hooves undramatically against rocks, tree trunks and hardened mounds of dung.
When asked about her life, she responded with the following:
“i saw one cloud. didn u see dat?”
Afterwards she ran around a hemlock tree six times, fell to the ground and urinated.