Don't Count On Nothing Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The hunter dreams of furs so fine,
A coat, a rug, a grand design.
He sees the bear, a mighty prize,
And plans his riches in his eyes.

But waits he must, with patient hand,
Before he boasts throughout the land.
For bears are swift, and woods are deep,
And promises are hard to keep.

So let the arrow fly, then see,
The bounty that will surely be.
Until that moment, sure and true,
The hide remains where wild things grew.