An Afternoon Undocumented

I wish that I could paint this afternoon with writing as a painter does a landscape. I'd use my words as watercolor. With my adjectives I would shade. With nouns I'd create perspective and with verbs dictate the hues. I would cross hatch with commas and stipple with semicolons. Yet, I was never much of an artist. Why should my picture of words be any different than my stick figures?And, besides a thing loses the majority of its charm the moment it is captured. So I will let this afternoon bloom undocumented. Perhaps it will come to beautiful fruition under the direction of a more skilled artist-the eye.