Surreal Pulse Rate

From a gem-encrusted window’s moonlit sash,
I peer vacantly on monetesque impressions as they wander every black ink hue lay-by.
Bag lady street hail loner, water colour lachrymose plight across the spillway nights-cape,
cul-de-sac of shadow flitting sprites begging  to be daubed on some genie artist’s  easel.
Surreal  urban pulse rate, spooky  ghost form atom charge of  tomb laden solemness,
sodden eerie platform where my sliver bob tail auntie booked her tickets to southern rustic idylls.
She sang of autumn sunset blight,  its wan perusal  o’er  moisture-barren realms.
Her final year on earth evoked dichotomy defying dissertation,
that grey stone bridge between a luminous parade of diamond royalty and mirrorball municipal, 
sandwich filler to that lamb of many bleats amid lush pastures.
Blossom facial hyacinth relation who once did eyelash blink those natural world Edens flowing thru her lyrical veins.
Alas that end of term eviction, lifespan tenure landlord surreptitious in their reach, cast a mural strain upon this tower block mythic folklore woman.