Super Sonnet

Is it true you flew twice the speed of sound,
Leaving sonic shock waves behind in a cloud?
Winged over the Atlantic, Paris bound,
An élan swan stretching its neck out proud.  

Sixty-thousand feet, Mach Two, double time.
Sleekly sculpted, a flying Brancusi.
Gourmet meals onboard were sublime.
Noise restricted flights to just over the sea.  

Like all mythical birds you are now folklore,
Flying the storied skies of history.
Landing lights on just off Avalon's shore;
Aeronautic beauty of harmony.  

Like the Phoenix you will rise again, I portend.
To the fleetly, Concorde was a godsend.