There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow;
There cherries grow that none may buy
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.

Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which, when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rosebuds fill'd with snow;
Yet them no peer nor prince may buy
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.

Her eyes like angels watch them still,
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threatening with piercing frowns to kill
All that approach with eye or hand
These sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.

In the dawn of time, life's mystery lies,
In the strands unseen by the human eyes,
In the heart of cells, where secrets keep,
Watson and Crick began to seek.

With paper and pen, they drew the line,
A double helix, a twist divine,
A dance of bases, A and T, G and C,
Unlocking the code of destiny.

Oh, the double helix, spinning through time,
Unravelling secrets, oh, so sublime,
From the heart of the cell to the edge of the sky,
The code of life, soaring high.

Chargaff's rules whispered in the night,
Bases pair, and the fit was right,
Adenine with thymine, guanine with cytosine,
The patterns clear, a design unseen.

X-ray beams through the crystal clear,
Franklin's images brought the structure near,
Watson and Crick, they saw the light,
In the helix form, life's guiding sight.

From the simple code, a symphony,
The human genome, our legacy,
With every sequence read, a door unlocked,
To healing hands, the future docks.

Gene therapy, a beacon bright,
Promising cures in the darkest night,
From the tiniest cell to the grand design,
A future of health, our genes align.

With every twist, with every turn,
New hopes rise, old fears burn,
In the dance of A and T, G and C,
Lies the promise of what we can be.

From Watson and Crick to the future's gaze,
In the dance of genes, our anthem plays,
The double helix, a tale of light,
Guiding humanity through the night.