She was such a mixture of things; Of lightness, and brightness, And butterflies wings. She was an innocent - Not worldly wise; With bright bits of heaven A-dance in her eyes. Her voice bubbled over With such 'joie de vivre'; And her laughter was Oh so infectious and free. But the World was too worldly For her tender heart; And she was too fragile For her earthly part. And thus, to our everlasting regret; Flew away our sweet butterfly - Our lovely Jeanette.