Writing Journal

I admit; I've been out of touch with the pen as of late. But I awoke after a dream about meeting with my first editor in chief and poetry editor with the feeling that I need to submit something this year. So I need some practice, especially if I'm to appeal to their tastes.
Here goes, another one without a title...

All the worst parts of the day
Perspired to conspire against me.
The heat
The sun
The hills
The lonliness
I longed for a friend,
New or old,
Unexpected or foretold,
Someone to keep me company
On this twenty mile road.

When I paused to catch my breath,
Have a drink, take a rest,
I saw a horseless carriage
Painted white.
I found inside a man,
Who, of Columbus, was a knight.

I acknowledged I was weak.
He insisted there was no pressure
As he took me to a place
Where I would rest and be refreshed.
The whole time I was lonely,
He was close behind,
Waiting for me to just look back
And make up my weary mind.