Walking With Bill

 

                          Yesterday, I posted Billy's poem where he mentions me.  Today, I pay him back!

A quick jump, Bill does make,
Seeing a striking pose by a snake.
Pain and fright, upon his face,
Away from that place, he did race.

Fumbling for phone, take a picture.
But the serpent's gone in a flicker.
It all happened so quickly,
Things do when Billy's with me.

"I wasn't scared," yet he squirmed.
"I was just surprised," Bill affirmed.
"He was a black, huge, thick circle--"
Bill's hand mimicked a huge pickle.

This happened as I saw it,
Bill's version may differ a bit.
I challenge him to respond in rhyme.
A new poem would suit me just fine.