Pappy's Poetry II: What Of Hell and Where?

I recently found some old papers, among them were a few poems written by my great-grandfather, Joseph William Taber Sr. I called him "Pappy," and count it among my greatest blessings that I got to know him. Because paper and ink fade, and because other family members may appreciate them, I've typed and uploaded them here.

What of Hell and where?
Must we go or stay?
Is it here or there?
Point him out who can Say.

Where fires fiercly burn
Tormented Souls in a pit
slowly squirm and turn
like chickens in a spit?
Not the Hell I see.
Visions by morbitity inspired.
To suffer most must be
denied lifes most desired.

a garden bright with bloom.
a lake quiet and still
Sky as the weavers loom
changing as the hours will.

Shading trees mossy draped.
Song birds a feathered choir
a natural Cathedral shaped
To fill the Souls desire

part 1; part 3; part 4;