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Priyanka Santosh Mahajan Poem
A Thousand-Watt Smile
A thousand-watt smile isn't born to hide the pain;
It blooms when someone knows they're not alone.
It rises from a heart that's danced with rain,
Yet still finds hope in places once unknown.
It reaches softly to the waiting eyes,
Where tears and laughter leave their gentle trace.
No mask, no pretense, nothing to disguise—
Just quiet courage shining through the face.
It warms the silence, brightens every room,
And lifts the weight that weary hearts have known.
A simple smile can chase away the gloom,
Reminding us that love is always shown.
Copyright © Priyanka Santosh Mahajan | Year Posted 2026
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Priyanka Santosh Mahajan Poem
Ode to a Cat
You never ask for the spotlight,
yet the second you walk in, the room belongs to you.
You wear your quiet like a favorite sweater,
reminding me that silence can be incredibly comforting.
You only come for a cuddle when it’s your idea—
and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
?That slow, sleepy blink says everything we need to say,
and your rumbling purr patches up the rough edges of my day.
You brush off an argument with a long, dramatic stretch,
tell me exactly how you feel with a flick of your tail,
and look at the morning as if we conquered the night together.
?You ask for so little—just a warm lap, a sunny spot, and trust.
Sitting here with you, I’ve finally figured out
that love doesn't need to shout to be real.
For all your mysterious ways, my friend,
you didn't just move into my house;
you quietly made yourself right at home in my heart.
Copyright © Priyanka Santosh Mahajan | Year Posted 2026
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Priyanka Santosh Mahajan Poem
A Quiet Wander
The river spoke in ways I couldn’t own
It moved in quiet circles through the night
A kind of voice I felt but hadn’t known.
The moon leaned in and gave it bits of beams
Spreading something soft across the air
Till even shadows shifted, faint but bright light gleams.
I walked along as if the dark might glare,
As if the silence held a kind thought,
Or knew how things could take and then care.
The wind came up—not harsh, but close and dry,
And brushed against my chest with no haste,
Like it had heard each and every question passing by.
Each step I took felt like a grave test,
Of whether I should chase or just stay,
Or finally give the searching mind peace and rest.
A canopy stood out ahead across the way,
Its arc cut clean against the deeper shade,
A line between what’s bright and what is gray.
I stopped just short, unsure of where is my heart,
And heard the river changes its silent mone,
As if it saw straight through me, quickly finds my art.
No voice, and still it felt like something groan,
That leaving things behind is never lean,
And no one ever walks where wind is blown.
I crossed, though I was not sure what I have seen,
And felt something is hidden in its glow,
Like losing something what I’d cherish always in this din.
The river’s voice felt different now—more languid,
A quieter truth under the open high,
That what we seek is something we can handed.
So on we move, not knowing how we will try,
We lose, we find, we drift, we come back alone
The past behind, the open road is wet and dry.
And every restless soul will adept to lone.
Copyright © Priyanka Santosh Mahajan | Year Posted 2026
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Priyanka Santosh Mahajan Poem
Pleasure is not always bright—
not lambent days or roving nights.
It’s in the pause when work is accomplished,
a quiet breath, though we are famished.
Its warm tea cradled in your hands,
no need for words, no heavy mands.
A laugh that drips, a gaze that lingers,
soft moments are counted on my fingers.
It’s in being held without a zounds,
in holding things, my joy knew no bounds.
In someone knowing how you sense
before you speak—before it’s dense.
Pleasure comes, then float away,
like luminous glint at end of day.
You don’t give up —you invite it start,
a gentle visitant in the heart.
Copyright © Priyanka Santosh Mahajan | Year Posted 2026
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Priyanka Santosh Mahajan Poem
?I stopped looking for You in distant skies.
You were waiting in the quiet all along.
In a hand that reached for mine without a word,
In the quiet grit to just begin again.
?You spoke through ordinary mornings,
And stayed through nights that had no answers.
I found You in shared bread, held tears, and easy laughter.
Not a blinding light—just a steady presence.
?The closer I came to love, the closer You seemed.
The less I demanded, the more I finally noticed.
Perhaps finding You was never the journey at all.
Perhaps it was just learning how to truly see.
Copyright © Priyanka Santosh Mahajan | Year Posted 2026
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