Die Dress Poem by Ima Ryma

Maude could not decide what to wear,
The dress made by Christian Dior,
That short hemline made for more air,
A handmade chic masterpiece, or
The dress made by Coco Chanel,
A hand stitched black beauty, oh yes,
That fit the body oh so well,
Or the Oleg Cassini dress,
A garment of elegant state.
And so Maude decided instead,
Ev'ry few months they would rotate
Each dress on her body, though dead.

This was per Maude's will, doncha know! -
All dressed up and no place to go