THE EVE OF MEIOSIS
'Twas prior to meiosis and all through the gland,
Action was normal; all was quite grand.
The cells were arranged with infinite care
In hopes that division soon would be there.
The nucleus was nestled all snug in its place,
Believing its chances were good in this case.
Its gossamer membrane would break down on cue,
To see what meiosis was going to do.
When all of a sudden an insidious force
Entered the cell and altered its course;
Into the center it flew like a flash,
Shattering genes with a strong silent splash.
The quiet of interphase was upset,
Much to the genes' eternal regret.
When what to these wondering units appeared
But the shuffling of cistrons they always had feared.
With a change in a muton and a switch in some more
They no longer knew which came last or before.
More rapid than eagles the transitions came;
Bases searched for each other by face and by name.
"Hey, thymine, where's adenine?"
"Where's cytosine's mate?"
"Oh, phosphate, where's ribose?" "How terrible a fate!"
To the depths of the nucleus, to the core of the cell,
Now dash away specter, you've done your job well.
As silent as night replacing the day,
So, too, does the mutagen slip out and away.
Up to this moment the process was right
But a phantom was here like a thief in the night.
And then in a twinkling the particles knew
They had a new message and trait to imbue;
As they drew their new partners and were turning around,
Into their midst came more ghosts with a bound.
These were brim-full of energy from their stem to their stern
And were doing their utmost, each taking his turn;
Their bundles of energy they flung off their backs
And caught the poor mutons right in their tracks.
How smartly they crackled! How quickly they danced!
Wreaking havoc galore as they darted and pranced;
They severed the sequences of long-standing fame,
Doing their worst, and still onward they came.
The chromosome stumps, they held right in their teeth
And the aura of energy hung like a wreath;
They hit from behind and into the belly
'Til the chromatin shook like a bowl-full of jelly.
The plump little molecules--usually jolly old elves--
Were uncoiled and recoiled in spite of themselves;
In the wink of an eye these specters sped
Their work of confusion--leaving nothing but dread.
They spoke not a word but went straight to their work,
Sowing discord and chaos, then turned with a jerk.
And flinging aside their genetic rape,
They hurriedly made their collective escape.
They sprang through the tissue, giving each other a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle;
But the genes heard them call ere they fled out of sight,
"You're mutations now--let time make you right!"
With apologies to Clement C. Moore
Craig L. Himes, Assistant Professor of Biological Sciences
BloomsburghState College, Bloomsburg, PA.