Short Poems for a Friday by my son Ben, aged 8

I thought I'd share three short poems written by my son Ben, aged 8.

SOUNDS

Waves clash,

Waterfalls clater,

Ladders fall, bash bash.

Leaves rusle,

Grandads snor,

People husle husle.

Birds tweet,

Clocks tick

Children, please stop talking.

GRANDADS

Grandads just lay down,

They don't do anything and I no why:

Because they are all paralized.

THE LONGIST WORD IN THE DICSHNERY

I no what the longist word in the dicshnery is,

And I am going to tell you.

Here is comes,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Gosh, that was a long word don't you think.