Bluey, born of artful lens rather than of hearthful dens, became, then, soon aware of her consternation regarding a lack of hibernation—compounded by a sense of lucifugous weariness and—believe it or not, still meliphagous beariness—as she searched for photophygous cheeriness. So, as she happened upon structure strengthed to state steady—more than able and ready for such steely-souled teddy, paws played tinted panes by drub, hoping entry for cursed cub in skyscraper’s homely hub ‘till rested eyes waked to rub. ; )