Upon the mantle she will lay the wreath of her fear

And today underneath, she’ll gird her beliefs to bear

The impact of the come-back whenever it flies near.

None unravel the weave of her articulation

For Megan is a statement—her dress her vocation,

And what Underneath supports, Above gives compensation.

What’s bred in her whale-bone is corseted opinion;

Like a Man, like Truth—a thing so willing her minion—

Her words can educate even a West Virginian.

Around her crown may be placed a designer laurel

And on her neck, polished children of stony coral,

But not ever shall she wear any cloth immoral.

The fashionistas all look to this silk-garbed priestess

For they see beneath her couture the thing to possess

And they wonder at the Dean’s ability to dress.