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.