When Desmond Fitzgerald succumbed to disease

his hereditary knighthood expired.

He had fathered no son to take up his sword.

No heir means the title’s retired.

For eight hundred years and twenty nine scions

The grand clan Fitzgerald held sway.

Now with his last breath, no successor is left

So, with honors, he’s buried today.



The green knight of Kerry is still in the field,

The last Irish knight in the fray.

Not that he sallies forth swinging a sword.

He sits home and drinks sherry all day.